Faith No More
by Anthem Aeneid
Summary: The brothers find their faith faultering. Murphy discovers a mystery in the woods on the outskirts of Boston. A mystery that could tear the brothers's bond apart forever. M for language and gruesome violence.
1. Requiem

**THE BOONDOCK SAINTS**

**In…**

"**Faith No More"**

**Chapter 1**

**Requiem**

This dark Friday began in the back streets of Boston. The MacManus brothers, accompanied by their father were face to face with Russian mob boss Dmitri Kablevsky. They had been tracking his wrong-doings for sometime now, he was their latest target, but was not in the least bit their most difficult. This was going to be one of the easier jobs. It wasn't supposed to go wrong. No one was supposed to get hurt (except for Kablevsky and his men).

"The legendary 'Il… Dulce…' and his Saints," Kablevsky spat in his thick Russian accent. Kablevsky mentioned their father's alias with a long drawl suggesting disgust in Il Dulce's traitorous acts. "You choose to fight with them?"

"You shut your fuckin' face! I've heard enough of your bullshit!" Father screamed in his own thick, Irish accent.

"Ya! You think? Fine! Have eet your way!" Kablevsky shouted, "Vladimir! Igor!"

Two colossal men flanked the mob boss with guns drawn. Connor smirked, _Two?_ He thought, _this'll be a piece of cake!_

Connor and Murphy slid their tattooed hands slowly to the butt of their guns. Father whipped his rifle from beneath his black overcoat. The dark alley was lit with the fireworks and sparkles of weapons firing. It didn't take long for Murphy to realize the ambush behind them. Six Russian mob soldiers closed them off from behind. Although he noticed, Murphy was unable able to act in time. Their guns began blazing the bright yellow flashes.

This wasn't supposed to be difficult. It was a meet and greet. Kill the Russian mob boss. It had gotten out of hand. Murphy aimed at the Russian soldiers behind them, but their bullets had already reached him. As he pulled his own trigger, the metal pierced his skin causing his arm to flail. A stray bullet from Murphy's gun pierced Father in the calf. Father's leg buckled from under him. He fell.

"Da!" Murphy screamed in pain. His eyes transformed into tiny dark slits as he switched his gun from his right hand to his left and began to fire. With intense accuracy and six bullets, the six soldiers fell to the dank, wet cement. He turned to see Vladimir and Igor bloodied on the ground, their eyes still wide from the shock of Connor's bullets.

Connor had run after Kablevsky and pounced on him, holding him to the cold alley ground.

Connor and Murphys' voices melded together to form their family prayer as they held their pistols to the head of Dmitri Kablevsky. "And shepherds we shall be. For thee, my Lord, for thee. Power hath descended forth from thy hand that our feet may swiftly carry out thy command. So we shall flow a river forth to thee and teeming with souls shall it ever be. E nomini Patri, et Fili, et Spiritu Sancti." _CRACK! _Kablevsky's body fell limply to the ground, crimson flowing freely from the newly formed craters where his eyes once resided.

Murphy and Connor walked over to their father. "Ya okay, Da?" Connor asked, knowing full well that his father would be fine. They were used to this by now.

"Aye Connor, help me up," Father replied smirking and wincing simultaneously.

Connor held his hand outstretched for his father to grasp. Then, Father's head exploded in a spray of bright red gore. A bullet had flown straight into the top of his skull, skimming through the long gray locks of hair and fracturing the old man's skin as it pierced the skull and lodged itself into Father's brain. A small stream of smoke emitted from the gaping hole in the man's head. His face was frozen in a state of shock similar to the faces of the fallen Igor and Vladimir.

A dying Russian soldier gasped his last breath as he dropped his gun which had fired the single shot. He drooped his head and died having just killed one of the greatest heroes of the twentieth century. "Da? Da?! DA?!" Connor's screams echoed off the bricks of the walls which created the deadly alley.

Murphy couldn't speak. He fell to his knees, his eyes void of any emotion. The void became filled with salty tears spilling down the skin on his face. Murphy attempted to speak again, nothing. Connor continued to scream heart-felt screams of pain, sadness, and love. "No! No, ya can't!"

Murphy continued to stare into his father's empty eyes. His vision became blurry with more and more tears. His hand reached out and grasped his father's limp hand. He lifted his father's torso as if he were trying to awaken his father from a deep sleep. Connor knelt beside his dark-haired brother. He had stopped screaming, though not of his own accord; his emotional pain had welled up inside of him causing his throat to constrict. He began to wheeze inaudible syllables of pain and denial.

Murphy turned to his brother, taking his eyes off of his father for the first time since the bullet ended his life. Connor's usual bright hair seemed dulled. Connor grabbed his father and proceeded to hold him in his arms hugging him with the love of a son. "It…can't…" Connor's words faded as he held his father's body.

Murphy felt as though he was awaking from a horrible nightmare, the blue and red lights accompanied by the screech of the wailing siren were the alarm which awakened him.

"Connor." It was all Murphy could say in attempt to alert his brother to the approaching threat.

Connor didn't seem to care; it was as though nothing mattered any more. The cop car now blocked one opening of the alley. Two men got out, a cop and a detective. As they walked into the light, Murphy saw the officer's name tag identifying him as an Officer Reese. Murphy recognized the detective immediately, Detective Greenly.

"Oh fuck," Greenly gasped in a semi-silent breath as he realized what had just happened. He felt great pity for the two brothers; it was obvious their grief was intense. Usually, the Saints would have fled the scene by now. Not tonight. Greenly began to wonder how he would manage to convince Officer Reese to let the brothers go. He felt lucky that he was one of the first to respond, or the brothers may have never have gotten away. He knew that he had to get them out of here quickly incase more arrived on the scene.

Officer Reese examined Greenly with great suspicion, it was apparent that Greenly felt sorry for these two men. "These are the Saints. We got 'em!"

"No, we don't," Greenly replied in a stern whisper.

"What? You're not going to take them in?" Officer Reese replied, astounded.

"No and you can't either. I was on their first ever case, they do good."

"Fuck no! I ain't lettin them go!"

"Reese, show some fuckin compassion for them. They just lost their fuckin dad, we got to get them out of here!"

The police officer looked nervously at Greenly then the MacManus brothers who had still not responded to the two men. Reese let out a disappointed sigh as he gave in to his detective partner. "Fuck," he whispered intensely.

"Connor, Murphy, we need to get you two the fuck out of here," Greenly said sternly, his thick Boston accent a few decibels louder to get their attention.

"No, Da," Connor yelped, grasping his father closer to his chest.

"We'll go, but we want to take him with us," Murphy said trying to wipe his tears from his cheeks.

"Shit fine, come on!" Greenly said ushering them into the patrol car. Murphy put his arm on his brother's shoulder, trying to encourage him to come with him. Connor felt a surge of strength from his brother's touch. The strength urged him to rise with Father still in his arms and follow his brother into the painted sedan.

* * *

The two officers of the law had dropped the two vigilantes and their fallen comrade off at the boundaries of the woods. The brothers had asked to be left here. It was here they would lay their father to rest.

They hiked into the woods to a clearing. The clearing was completely shrouded in darkness and surrounded by trees on all sides. The two placed their father on the grassless, dirt ground. They positioned two copper coins on his eyes as they always did.

Like poor beggars, the two brothers simultaneously knelt in front of their father. They began to use their bare hands to pierce the damp earth, removing the intrusive particles of dirt which lodged themselves under their fingernails. They continued this digging for hours.

The sun was almost up and dawn was almost upon them. They had just finished lowering their father into the ground and Connor and Murphy seized a wad of dirt, saying their final good byes and began to cover Father in soil. They created a makeshift headstone from rocks near the burial sight. Neither brother had tears in their eyes, Connor only had anger, Murphy had surprise. He distinctly saw someone hide behind a tree.

The long dark hair could only be one person. Murphy couldn't believe who he saw. He whispered into the thin air, "Rocco?"


	2. Fallen Heroes

**Chapter 2**

**Fallen Heroes**

Murphy's whisper was not loud enough for Connor to hear. Connor's head still was bowed in sorrow for their fallen father. Connor raised his head in question as Murphy began to walk towards the edge of the clearing, as if he were being drawn to it. Connor waited till Murphy got to the tree line. Murphy ventured behind a large tree trunk and shortly after reappeared on the other side.

"Wha?" Connor asked. Murphy was too engrossed to respond to his brother. "Murph? Murphy, wha are you doin?"

"He… was… here…" Murphy's words were separated syllable by syllable. Connor could sense great disappointment in Murphy's voice.

"Who Murph?" Connor felt like he was speaking with a child.

"I…I… saw him," Murphy stuttered.

"Who the fuck are you talkin about Murphy?" He asked annoyed.

"Rocco," Murphy's single word answer took Connor by surprise. Connor had to think a moment before everything wrong with that registered.

"But Murph… Rocco's dead," He said with discretion. This was a bad night, he didn't want to upset his brother.

"No," Murphy said as if he didn't believe his twin, "no, he was right here. Right here. RIGHT FUCKIN' HERE!"

Connor's voice was filled with fright. "Murphy, Murphy please."

"No! NO!" Murphy continued to scream.

It wasn't as though Connor was afraid of his brother, he was afraid for him. Connor approached his brother carefully. He extended his arm with concern. As his hand touched his twin's shoulder, Murphy began to calm himself. He took a deep breath. "Let's go home."

* * *

In their father's loft, Connor and Murphy were both unsuccessfully trying to sleep. Murphy couldn't stop thinking about what he saw.

Connor was lying on his back, wondering what had happened. He was trying to sort the events in his head. He didn't know why his father was on the ground in the first place. He figured he probably shouldn't ask his brother, not yet. "Ma."

"Wha?" Murphy whispered, not because he was trying to be quiet, but because he was thinking so deeply that that was all his vocal chords could muster up.

"We have to tell Ma," Connor said as if he were having a revelation.

"Naw, she can't know that we know where he's been," Murphy argued. "We've been with da almost a year, how can we explain ourselves?"

"I don't think it's right to lie to her," Connor replied.

"We've been lyin for a year," Murphy countered.

"I guess you're right, let's just call her then," Connor suggested.

"Fine."

Connor pushed himself up from his bed and swung his legs so that his feet touched the ground and stood. He marched slowly towards the phone. He picked it up and began to dial his mother's number in Ireland.

After two rings, Annabelle MacManus picked the phone up, she mysteriously was sober, she wondered to herself, _how did that happen?_

"Hello?"

"Ma, is that you?" Connor asked gravely.

"Connor? What in blazes are you callin for? You two alright?" She asked.

"Yeah, ma, we're fine," Connor sighed; he wasn't able to mask his depressed voice.

"You sure as hell don't sound alright!" Their mother was showing concern that Connor hadn't heard in a long time.

"It's just…" Connor held his tongue; he didn't want to reveal the secret that Murphy had asked him to keep from their mother.

"Lord Son, what is it? Out with it!"

Murphy was sitting up in his bed; he was giving his brother a stern look.

"Nothin, Ma," Connor yelped, he didn't enjoy lying to his mother this way. "I just needed to hear your voice, that's all."

"Well, ya heard it, anything else?"

"Nothin."

"Good, I'm goin to the Anvil."

"Have a good time Ma," Connor said hanging up the phone and sighing, "It's not right you know. Lyin to Ma. We have to tell her."

"Fuck, I guess you're right, but not now," Murphy said resting his head. "Let's go get a bite ter et."

"Sure," Connor said. He reached out instinctively to grab his rosary hanging beside the door. His movement briefly faltered and his hand froze before it touched the hanging cross. He let out a nervous laugh, he could feel Murphy's surprised glare staring down the back of his neck. Connor shook his head and grabbed the rosary, throwing it around his neck as he and his brother walked out the door.

* * *

"I saw Rocco in those woods," Murphy said, breaking an awkward silence that had fallen over the tiny restaurant booth.

Connor dropped his half-eaten hamburger, picked up his napkin, and wiped his face before commencing to talk, "Murph, how?"

"Wha do ya mean 'how'?" Murphy asked, his mouth full of what used to be fries.

"Wha? Are ya jokin? Murph, Rocco's dead, he ain't comin back! Ya know that right?" Connor whispered, however his whisper was so intense Murphy felt as though he was being yelled at. Murphy's head drooped in shame, Connor was right, but he knew he saw something out there in those woods.

"Ya, but…" Murphy's words were cut short when a massive man entered the room. Murphy looked at the man with anxious eyes; he knew from experience that men like that always turned out to be trouble. Connor followed Murphy's line of vision until he too noticed the man. The giant stopped a waitress and asked her something, but Murphy couldn't make out what he asked.

"That guy has ta be seven fet tall," Connor whispered. The waitress pointed to the MacManus brothers' booth, "Oh shite."

The man made eye contact with Murphy and began to saunter towards them without so much as blinking. The brothers made no attempt to run, if they had to, they would face this man.

He was now standing over them looking from one brother to the other, "You keelled my brother."

"Wha are ya talkin about?" Murphy pretended to not know, though it didn't take a rocket scientist to put together the fact that one of the bodies in the alley belonged to this hulk.

"Ya must have us confused with someone else," Connor suggested.

"You keelled Vladimir and now you will pay the price," the giant said, and with that he outstretched both of his arms and clenched onto both brothers' shirts lifting them from their seats. "Let's take this outside," the Russian said as he began to simply drag to the helpless brothers across the slick floor. Connor and Murphy attempted to break free from the man's grasp, but were unsuccessful, they knew that it would be easier and less messy to kill the man out there anyway. The people in the booths stared nervously at the helpless twins. No one was brave enough to move, no one would help the brothers.

In the alley, the brothers felt strange. They were fighting in broad daylight for the first time in a long while. Connor attempted to punch the gargantuan with his tattooed left hand reading _Veritas_. The monster grabbed Connors entire hand and crushed it like a ball of paper. Connor's blood-curdling screams rang out in the alley as he fell back, grasping his broken hand.

Murphy grabbed for his gun, but was too late, the man lifted Murphy in the air. He was about to attempt to drop Murphy's helpless body on his enormous kneecap, but Connor had just cocked his gun and the giant flinched. The bullet following the loud _bang_ pierced the Russian's side. He bellowed in pain and began to run, dropping Murphy to the hard ground. The Russian ran down the alley to the other side, escaping the rest of Connor's bullets.

Murphy gasped for air, as he did he saw the unmistakable figure of Rocco walking past one end of the alley, right behind Connor. Murphy tried to call out to him, but he couldn't his voice wouldn't sound.


	3. A Shattered Being

**Chapter 3**

**A Shattered Being**

The two brothers found themselves again in their loft. Murphy held Connor's hand, examining the invisible wound which was causing Connor to scream in pain. The searing, throbbing pain had not ceased since it was inflicted over an hour ago.

"I can't d'anything," Murphy said shrugging. "I'll jus' wrap it up."

Murphy revealed a ball of white gauze which he began to use to wrap Connor's broken hand. "Why di' he jus' run away? He could've easily taken us both."

Connor winced in pain, saying, "maybe he was jus' warnin us?"

"Warning us about wha?" Murphy asked.

Connor could only shrug.

"Ter change the subject, I saw ya when we were leavin this morning. Wha was all that about?" Murphy was referring to Connor's hesitation when he reached for his rosary on the way out this morning.

"Wha?" Connor said annoyed. He knew exactly what Murphy meant, but he didn't want to talk about it.

"Fine, don' talk about it," Murphy said. His voice instantly changed, "I saw him again."

"Wha?"

Murphy instantly knew he shouldn't have said anything, but he couldn't stop talking, "I saw Rocco."

"Oh, not this shite again. Are ya fuckin serious?" Connor said pulling his broken and bandaged hand away from Murphy.

"Yes! I fuckin saw him! I don't give a fuck wha ya think either! An' I'm goin' ter find him!" Murphy said grabbing his rosary as he slammed the door behind him.

Connor drooped his head as he sat on his bed wondering whether or not he should follow his brother. He stood and walked to the door but stopped in front of his rosary. There was a barrier between him and the world outside of his decrepit room. He reached a shaking hand out but it wouldn't touch the cross. "FUCK!" Connor screamed as he began to kick the wall under the hanging necklace. "FUCK! Fuck! Fuck." His curses were a dimuendo as he began to cry. Tears rolling down his cheeks; he didn't know why this was all happening. Why to him? Why now?

The single table in their loft held only a phone and a make-shift ashtray which in reality was only the bottom half of the empty beer can. Connor grabbed the table and threw it across the room, causing the two items to topple across the room with the table. Instantly the screams of emotional pain became screams of physical pain as his broken hand cried out. "FUCK YOU GOD!" Connor screamed as he flicked off the heavens above him with his good hand.

Connor stormed out of the room, leaving the rosary hanging alone on the nail in the frail wall.

* * *

Connor was visiting bar after bar, desperately searching for his brother. He stumbled into his fourth bar to find the familiar image of Murphy hunched over the bar with a large glass of beer grasped in his hands. He hadn't drunken any yet. It was as if he was waiting for his brother to drink with him. His eyes were glued to the gold nectar peacefully sitting in his goblet.

Connor looked around the bar. It was generally empty apart from a couple eating a late lunch at a table and three large, bearded men drinking beers at the far end of the bar.

Murphy looked up, breaking the deep state of focus to see who had entered the quiet bar. He recognized Connor right away and instantly grimaced at the sight of his brother. He turned back to the drink, lifting it to his lips, but something within him couldn't drink the liquid. Instead it was held in the frozen state, the glass barely touching his lips. Murphy slammed the glass to the table causing the alcohol to jostle and spill.

Connor began taking small, nervous steps towards his brother. Murphy stood from the stool and turned, facing his brother, their eyes meeting with a hate that had begun to brew within each other.

"Why are ye here?" Murphy asked, annoyed.

"We need te talk," Connor replied.

"I have nothin ter say te ye," Murphy declared turning his back to his twin.

Connor grabbed his brother and turned him around forcefully, saying, "yeah, well I got somethin te say te ye!"

"Ye, want te tell me tha I'm crazy and Rocco's dead, right?" Murphy speculated.

"Rocco is dead, no question!"

"I saw him!" Murphy's face became smeared with suspicion. He grabbed the collar of Connor's shirt and pulled it down, revealing the bare neck, void of a rosary. "What the hell!"

Connor couldn't take it anymore. He swung his undamaged hand, aiming directly for Murphy's face. The fist connected with Murphy's check causing him to fall back on the stool. Murphy grabbed his mug, though the punch hurt, most of the pain was due to the sheer shock of his brother's blow. Murphy shot an angry look at his brother as he wiped away the trickle of blood falling from his mouth, "goodbye Connor."

Connor dropped his hand in astonishment, _what did I just do?_ He looked at his brother apologetically, but it was too little too late, his brother pushed passed him as he stormed out of the restaurant.

* * *

The room had grown silent; the people were watching the events unfold before them. The man that had punched the other guy was just standing in his spot. It was as if he was frozen. He was in such a state of shock at what he had just done that his body could not will him to move.

Connor instinctively went to grab his rosary as if he were going to pray for forgiveness, but found nothing but a naked neck and the collar of his black shirt. Instantly he remembered his rage. He remembered his anger and he, like his brother stormed out of the restaurant.

Murphy was lost. He was sitting on a bench in a park he had never been to. It was unlike him to get lost like this, but he was not under any usual circumstances. He was thinking about today. Everything since his father's death had been a downward spiral. He wanted to call Rocco, ask for help. Rocco would come and he would help to get the brothers back together. But he was gone, Rocco was gone. _But I saw him! I fucking saw him!_ He thought to himself.

He walked to a pay phone. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. Detective Greenly's phone number was printed on it with a message saying, "If you need anything, call me."

"Shit," Murphy whispered to himself as he hesitated to pick up the black, plastic phone.

He grabbed it and began to press the silver buttons. After three rings, a voice came on the phone, "yeah?"

"Greenly?" Murphy asked.

The detective recognized that it was an Irish accent, it had to be one of the MacManus brothers. He instantly sat up on his bed which he had been sleeping in after his long night shift.

"Connor?" He asked.

"No, it's Murphy," He said.

"Awe, shit, sorry," the detective apologized. "Are ya guys all right?"

"Na, that's why I'm callin. I need some help."

"Anything," Greenly assured him, and then slightly changed the subject, "What's wrong."

"I can't talk about it. I need your help. I don't know where I am."

Greenly seemed surprise, "Oh, I can help, just explain the buildings, I probably know where ya are." Murphy did and Greenly did know where he was, "I'll be there in a sec."

* * *

Connor found himself in yet another bar staring at a glass a beer, just as his brother had been doing. He couldn't bring himself to drink it, "Wha the fuck! Wha the FUCK!"

The bartender was unfazed by his vulgar remarks. What he was puzzled by was the Irish man's inability to drink the amber liquid in front of him.

Connor placed his forehead on his interlocked arms and began to cry tears of absolute misery.


	4. On the Flip Side

**Chapter 4**

**On the Flip Side**

"Conna hit ya?" Detective Greenly asked with a voice full of shock. He was driving his car through the streets of Boston. Greenly couldn't believe that Murphy had managed to make it to the park. He had to have run at least eight miles in an hour.

"I dun want te talk about it," Murphy shooting down Greenly's question.

"Listen, ya may not think ya want ta talk about it, but ya probably should talk ta someone," he suggested.

"Dun fuckin tell me wha te do!" Murphy screamed almost incoherently.

"Jus a suggestion. Jus a suggestion," he responded.

"My brother thinks I'm crazy," Murphy whispered with a wavering voice and tears beginning to fill his eyes, creating a blue ocean of sadness. Greenly looked at the pain on Murphy's face and found that he had no words for the tormented soul. He simply placed a reassuring hand on Murphy's knee and gave him a semi-confident look. Murphy didn't respond to the detective's attempt to comfort him. "He thinks…" Murphy swallowed the rest of his words.

"Why would he think that? Are ya?" Greenly asked frankly.

"I keep seein…" Murphy's words began to fail him as he tried to explain himself. "I keep…" He took in a large breath and let it out in attempt to settle himself, "Fuck. I keep seein… Rocco."

"Wait. I know that name," Greenly immediately began remembering information about Rocco. "Aw, ya mean tha guy ya guys worked with for a while. The shitty shooter. But isn't he…"

"Dead," Murphy finished Greenly's sentence, "yea, that's why."

Greenly couldn't speak, he had nothing to say. Silence filled the car.

* * *

Connor sat, miserable, at the bar, his untouched glass of beer sitting in front of him. Connor looked up at the man who had just taken a seat on the barstool next to him. The man looked just as depressed or disturbed as Connor was. He was taller than Connor, but something about him made him look short. The man ordered his alcohol and turned to face Connor, "What's your problem." 

"Nothin," Connor replied.

"Doesn't look like 'nothing'," the man said.

"I don't want te talk about it," Connor dismissed turning back to his drink and attempting once again to take a sip.

"An Irishman who can't drink alcohol, wow you must be like a disgrace to your family or something," the man said laughing.

"Hey, fuck you!"

"Sorry, just trying to help you out, you look really bummed," the man said defensively.

"Ya dun look so hot yeself, wha's your problem," Connor indicated.

"I have this brother, he's a real ass. We got in this huge fight, over something really stupid and I fucking told him to kill himself. How could I do that? Am I a horrible person?" The man spilled his story to Connor.

Connor couldn't help but noticed the similarities between him and that man. "Yes, we are horrible."

The man was instantly surprised at the Connor's words, "We?"

Connor hadn't noticed what he had inadvertently said, "Uhh, my story's kinda the same."

The man outstretched his hand for a shake, "The name's Philip. Philip Glass."

Connor shook John's hand saying, "Connor."

"Well, Connor what's your story?" John asked. Connor proceeded to tell his story, making sure to only tell the man about Murphy's wild claims of seeing the dead. He didn't want to hint anything suspicious about the two brothers.

"Well, I'd better get going. It was a pleasure meeting you. It's unfortunate it had to be under these circumstances," Glass said reaching his hand out towards Connor.

"Quite right, Mr. Glass," Connor said receiving the man's hand and giving it a solid shake. "Goodbye."

"See ya later," Mr. Glass said as he turned and left the bar.

* * *

"Listen, you know that I'd do anythin for the two of ya," Greenly said, breaking an awkward silence that had befallen the two of them. "If there is anything I can do to help, ya just let me know." 

"There is one thing…" Murphy hesitated, he was embarrassed to ask.

"Yeah?"

"Can I stay at your place tonight? I can't see Connor tonight," Murphy couldn't bring himself to look at Greenly.

"Of course! I got a couch!" Greenly smiled, it made him feel better when he helped the brothers. It was his way of doing his part. Joining the police force had been an attempt for him to try to do good in the world. He had never really felt like he was doing good until he met the MacManus's.

* * *

Connor closed the door to the loft behind him. He looked down at his rosary hanging on the wall, mocking him. "Fuckin piece of shit!" His eyes scanned the rest of the loft searching, hoping to see his brother. But Murphy hadn't made it home. "If he's even going to get home," Connor stated aloud. 

He undressed, leaving only his underwear on, his sleep attire. He sat on the couch and looked down at his exposed right thigh. A scar resembling a bubble protruding from his leg caught his attention. He rubbed it softly thinking about the day he got it. Though one of many of his scars, this scar carried real meaning. His father had given him this scar before they knew of their familial relation. "Da," Connor whispered. He tried desperately to keep his composure, but it was too much. He emotionally burst, wailing uncontrollably. He fell to his side and instantly fell asleep.

* * *

Murphy's mind awoke before his body. A strong scent filled his senses. It took him a moment to realize, _coffee_. His eyes opened to unfamiliar surroundings. He had to think hard to remember falling asleep on Greenly's couch the previous night. He lifted himself up and saw Greenly through the open doorway in the kitchen preparing two cups of coffee. 

"Ah, he's awake," Greenly said smiling walking into the room with the coffee, handing one mug to Murphy.

"Thanks," Murphy replied, sipping the hot coffee. "What time is it?"

"Seven o'clock. Why? You got someplace to be?"

"Yeah, mass, it's Sunday," Murphy said handing his empty mug to Greenly.

"Jesus, you drank that fast! Hey maybe you'll see Connor there," Greenly cautiously commented. He didn't know whether that would be a good thing, or bad.

Murphy instantly became dismayed, remember what had happened yesterday. "Don't count on it…"

"He wouldn't miss church just to avoid you!" Greenly said.

"No, the old Connor wouldn't. But this new and improved version would. He's lost," Murphy sighed.

"No one like his own brother to help him get found," Greenly attempted to sound smart and philosophical, only to find that he sounded like an idiot. Though his advice was still genuine and quite true.

* * *

Connor too awoke on a couch. He looked at a clock hanging on the wall, "Seven thirty." An inner battle waged inside of him. He couldn't decide whether he should go to mass or not. Something inside him seemed to shout, _Go!_ But he couldn't shake the unavoidable feeling of betrayal which seemed to well up inside him constantly. "Fuck it!" Connor said as he laid back down and thought silently. 


	5. The Return of Mr Glass

**Chapter 5**

**The Return of Mr. Glass**

Murphy knelt in prayer in the church pew. His head bowed deeply, he was in his own trance. No one bothered him. The church was empty, no services started until eight, it was seven fifteen.

A man walked in from the back. He saw the lone man and decided to take a seat next to him. His presence didn't seem to bother the praying man. He saw that the praying man was kneeling and he wondered why the man knelt. That never seemed to make sense to him. Having never been religious, many things about the church confused him.

"Hello?" He asked.

Murphy didn't flinch, no one bothered him during his prayer.

"My name's Philip Glass. I uhhh… Well this is awkward. I have your brother…" Mr. Glass stood and began to walk away calmly.

It took a moment for Murphy to realize what the man had said. It felt as if his insides began switching places. He instantly stood and grabbed the man's jacket. "Wha did ye just say?"

Mr. Glass laughed a little, "I have your brother. It's a shame you guys didn't make up before I'm going to kill him."

"Wha makes ye think I'm goin to let you walk out of here?"

"Well, for one: I gave my men strict orders. If I'm not back in…" Mr. Glass looked at his wristwatch. "Eight minutes, than they are going to kill your brother for me. But I really want the chance to do it myself."

Murphy let go of the jacket. He almost couldn't breathe. He didn't have any plan cooking in his head. Nothing was telling him what he should do. He was lost and this unexpected visit was turning out to be the most horrifying event in his life.

"Goodbye Murphy," Mr. Glass said as he walked out the church doors.

* * *

A soft thump jerked Connor awake. He sucked in a breath and held it, listening… wondering if he was going to hear the sound again. There was repetition. Instantly, Connor knew someone was in the loft.

He carefully reached down to the ground where his gun lay under his jeans. He carefully slid his jeans off of the weapon and grabbed it. He was safe now. "Murph?" He called out feebly.

No response. Now he began to get increasingly nervous. He carefully lifted himself up from the laying position he had been in and scanned the room. No one there.

A shadow of a figure disappeared behind the door to the other room. Connor leapt up. He slid along the wall until he got to the doorway and carefully, he peered around the edge of the door and looked into the room.

What Connor saw was so frightening; it caused him to drop his gun. He helplessly stood in fear as he stared into the eyes of the unbelievable truth standing in front of him. It walked towards him maliciously, and all Connor could do was scream.

* * *

Murphy walked back to the loft hoping to find some clues as to where his brother might be. As he approached the building, he looked up at the window that belonged to their loft. A blood curdling scream erupted from that window. It was his brother. Mr. Glass was bluffing, he hadn't had Connor. He was just planning on taking him. Murphy bolted into the building and up the stairs.

He came to the door of the loft which was slightly ajar. "Connor!" Murphy screamed as he entered the room. Nothing. No one was in the room. It was completely empty. Murphy franticly checked every room. No one. No sign of anybody having ever been there. "Shit! Shit!"

Murphy's body came to a halt. He could no longer control himself. He fell to his knees, half in prayer, half in submission. Arrested in this state he began to silently bawl, "What… do… I…" He inhaled sharply before finishing his query, "do?"

After having knelt for a moment, he looked to his right. On the floor was the phone. It was chiming three times before a voice said "If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and try again." The ascending chimes rang again, then the voice, "If you'd like…"

He grabbed the phone and slammed it onto the receiver. As he held the phone in his hand, he realized where he could start. He picked it up and began dialing a number he had now memorized.

"_Greenly_."

"Help…me…"

"_Murphy_?" Greenly recognized the voice this time. "_What do you need_?_ What happened_?"

"They got him. They got Conner."

"_Who? Who for God sakes_?" Greenly was screaming now.

"I… I don't know… It was a Mr… uhhh… Mr. Glass," Murphy said remembering mass earlier.

Greenly instantly recognized the name, but he couldn't figure out why, "_Glass, Glass, Glass_. _OH SHIT_!!!"

"What? WHAT?"

"_I talked to Smecker about a week ago. He talked about a Mr. Glass. He was involved in a case he was working on._"

"But Smecker is in New York now," Murphy pointed out.

"_He must have come to Boston_. _Call Smecker, he'll help_. _In the mean time, I'm gonna come pick you up_!_ And we'll figure this out_!" Greenly hung up immediately.

Murphy hung up the phone, "fuck, fuck, fuck. Smecker, where the fuck is that card?" He was referring to the card that Smecker given them when he visited from New York. He had been transferred after having been suspected of helping the Saints. Murphy spied it under the refrigerator. He grabbed it and instantly began dialing the number.

"_This is Smecker_," his voice sounded tired. More tired than he had been in Boston.

"Smecker? Murphy. I need your help," he begged.

"_What's up_?"

"Conner has been kidnapped by some fuck face named Mr. Glass," Murphy cried.

"_FUCK_! _Murphy you have to be careful_! _This guy is bad news. He plagued us at the precinct here in Manhattan. He has a flare for the dramatic. He is the overlord of a mob that causes havoc and murders uncontrollably. Manhattan has been getting pretty rowdy and full of mobs and gangs. Mr. Glass must have gotten pretty claustrophobic with all the other lords. Maybe he wanted a change of scenery_."

"I don't care about any of this! What do I do?" Murphy screamed.

"_Listen to me. Glass is dangerous. You're going to need help. Don't go near him_!"

Murphy hung up the phone, "fuck it!"

There was a knock at the door. "It's Greenly! Open up!"

* * *

Connor's eyes opened. He took in his surroundings carefully. The room was dark, but he could still make out the dark stains on the floor and walls, blood. His heart began to get faster. Excitement was building inside of him.

The door began to open slowly. Connor knew what was coming and he could do nothing but scream again. This was impossible. This was bad.


	6. Emulation Repitition

**Chapter 6**

**Emulation… Repetition**

_Not possible. Not possible._ Connor repeated this mantra over and over in his head. It was seemingly the only thing keeping him sane. He knew he was on the brink of dementia, because what was in front of him was not possible.

"Hello Connor," Mr. Glass said, smirking. "Long time no see. How's your brother situation. I hope you got a chance to make up before you… well you know… before you die."

Connor raised his head slightly, trying to only look at Mr. Glass, and attempting unsuccessfully to avert his eyes from the other man standing just a foot away from Glass. "What?" Connor managed to whisper. It was unusually tiring for him to talk.

"Oh, you might notice that you're feeling… a bit tired. That is my little… experimental… drug. You are my test rat!" Mr. Glass yelled. "Now, the effects of this drug are quite unique. You will feel tired, and it will be hard for you to move, but you'll feel any pain that may befall you. And just to test this, I brought… supplies." Mr. Glass began to laugh.

Connor became frightened again as he saw Mr. Glass open a small briefcase containing assorted knives, scalpels, a miniature blow torch, a miniature screwdriver, and other threatening devices.

Mr. Glass grabbed a scalpel. "Let's give it a try, shall we?" He sliced a line on Connor's arm. Connor jerked slightly, it didn't hurt too badly, but he sure felt it, which was scary enough. The cut began to bleed. "Excellent, let's get started!"

* * *

The car roared as is sped through the streets of South Boston. Greenly's lights were flashing, siren blaring. "What are we looking for?" Greenly shouted over the noisy police cruiser.

"Drive to the church! We have to start somewhere! That's the best bet!" Murphy shouted back.

"Why there?"

"Because that's where I first met Glass, before he… he…" Murphy couldn't finish the thought.

"All right!" Greenly said flooring it. The cruiser sped even faster than before, which surprised Murphy, he didn't think it possible.

* * *

Smecker furiously ripped through his files. He had dug up everything he had found on Mr. Glass. "What am I missing?" He shouted, frustrated. He desperately wanted to help the MacManus brothers. But some little fact seemed to be eluding him. He pulled out a file and began reading it. He began to throw it back into the pile, but stopped himself. Something caught his eye. "Oh SHIT!"

* * *

Mr. Glass exhaled deeply. "I like this part. This is such a subtle art form. It takes a steady hand to deliver pain to the human body, without killing the vessel."

"Go fuck yourself," Connor whispered.

"The art of torture takes a certain method. I like to call it emulation and repetition. I like to destroy the person both physically AND mentally," Mr. Glass said as he gestured to the other person in the room. Connor could not look at the man. "Also, I have a mirror in the room, so that the prey can see what I'm doing. They can see their own destruction."

Connor let out an involuntary whimper. It was only slight, but it was enough for Glass to hear.

"Back to emulation and repetition. First I like to emulate, or imitate, something fearful. Something that I know will affect you greatly. I definitely succeeded this time! This is what attacks your mental being. Then comes the physical attack. This is where I do something. Something that hurts. Then I do nothing but repeat the pain, over and over and over."

He began to whistle as his hand glided over his tools and instruments. "Ah!" He picked up a serrated knife. "Always start with something frightening. Something visceral."

* * *

Murphy and Greenly stood outside the church Murphy furiously looking, scanning for anything that could possibly help him. Just when he thought all hope was lost, Greenly's cell phone began to ring.

"Greenly," his face brightened for a moment. "Murphy, it's Smecker! I knew I bought this damn phone for a reason!"

Murphy yanked the phone out of Greenly's hand, "what?"

"_Murphy, you need to listen carefully. Mr. Glass is a sick bastard. His main business is torture. He enjoys torturing his victims before killing him. He is a mob boss, and runs a huge North American drug ring, but he deals with his enemies if a fucking sick manner._"

"That means he's going to torture Connor! If he hasn't already!" Murphy cried helplessly.

"_Actually, I hate to say this, but that may be a good thing_," Smecker said.

"How the fuck could that be a good thing?"

"_It means that Connor is going to be kept alive for probably the next twenty-four hours._"

Murphy's eyes bound left and right rapidly. He was deep in thought and worry. "FUCK!" It was like a sick catch-22. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

"_Now Murphy, you have to listen carefully again. Calm down. When Mr. Glass was in New York, he had to torture his victims in a secluded place, where no one could hear their screams. But he also has to do it in close proximity of the city he's working in. Is there a place, possibly an abandoned warehouse or something, that he could use_?"

"No! I mean I don't know! How the FUCK would I know?" Murphy was full-on crying again.

"_You have to think Murphy! Think carefully!_"

Murphy tried to think as hard as he could, but nothing came to him. "I can't think of any abandoned warehouses or anything!"

"Wait, what?" Greenly asked, he was trying to figure out the conversation, but it wasn't easy.

"Smecker says that Mr. Glass would be in an abandoned warehouse or something like that," Murphy said.

"Well, I can think of one place. The Russian mob's headquarters. After you two took out Kablevsky, the Russian mob picked up and left their headquarters and settled in a different place in Boston. They need recuperating time and so they went into hiding. The police taped off the place and still haven't released it yet. But we haven't been in it either. They could have easily set up base there, and we would never have known!"

"Thanks Smecker! We got it!" Murphy said throwing the phone at Greenly. "Let's go!"

* * *

Agent Smecker hung up the phone. "Jesus Christ. They are in some deep shit," he whispered to himself.

He looked around the station. It was a surprisingly quiet night. He exhaled slowly. He desperately wanted to help the MacManus brothers, but they were so far away. He knew he had helped, but maybe he could do more.

"Oh fuck it!" He said slamming the file down on his desk. He got up and grabbed his bag, stuffed the file in the bag and charged out of his office. He came to the front desk, where an officer was sitting, bored out of his mind. "I'm leaving for a couple of days. Tell Officer Livings that he is in charge, next time that you see him."

"Yes sir," the officer replied.

Smecker headed straight for his personal car, sitting in the parking lot. He stopped as he got to the car door. He couldn't move for a few seconds. _Am I doing the right thing_? He asked in his head. "Yes," he opened the car door, started the engine, and began driving.


	7. Brother Lost

**Chapter 7**

**Brother Lost**

"You know I was in your loft last night?" Mr. Glass said, a huge grin plastered on his face.

Connor looked at his arms, they were cut all over. He was in pain, but he still was staying strong. He hadn't given Mr. Glass any pleasure. He had practically stayed silent during the knife treatment.

Mr. Glass lightly touched his knife to Connor's scar on his right thigh. "This reminds you of your dad? Huh? Wonder why? Well why don't we let this scar remind you of me, instead." He walked over to his briefcase and let his hand lightly explore the tools. "Here we go."

Connor nervously looked up and saw what Glass had grabbed, the blowtorch. He ignited the flame and it burned for a moment, malicious and threatening. Glass walked over and aimed the flame at Connor's scar. As he moved it closer and closer to the scar, Connor could feel the heat getting hotter. Then the flame made contact. The burning flesh instantly began smelling up the air. It sizzled and melted in front of their eyes.

Connor couldn't help it. He began to scream. His screams were rattling and pain filled. He began to gargle in hurt. Mr. Glass pulled the flame away. Connor coughed hard. He had felt pain, but he always was able to deal with it and for the most part his brother would be at his side. Now he was alone. No brother. No Murphy. Just pain.

* * *

Greenly pulled the cruiser up to the Russian mob house. The brakes screeched as the car stopped and Murphy launched out of the passenger side of the cruiser.

Greenly was a little slower, but he still hurried. "Murphy," Greenly whispered harshly, "you can't just barge in. Think about this."

"This is my brother we're talking about!"

"All the more reason to use caution!"

"What do you suggest?" Murphy asked.

"Follow my lead," Greenly said as he walked in front of Murphy.

Greenly knocked on the door. Of course, no answer. He opened the door carefully, with his sidearm drawn. Murphy realized his hurry was a bad idea. He hadn't even drawn his gun. The room was dark, and quiet. It did not look like anybody had been here for a while.

The two continued to search the building thoroughly, but they came up with nothing. The building was in fact vacant, abandoned. "Fuck!" Murphy shouted.

Greenly let a heavy breath escape his mouth, "All right. Back to square one."

* * *

The door of the building shut. A siren blared and a police cruiser screeched as it raced off. Connor tried to scream but the hand over his mouth muffled the noise. The hand that covered his mouth was missing a pinky finger. Just another piece of evidence that the man behind him was in fact, real.

* * *

Smecker sped along the highway. He would be in Boston soon. He just had to keep telling himself that everything was going to be fine. Giuseppe Verdi's _Caro Nome_ blared on the CD player. It was times like this, that Smecker found he was the most productive. He found it so easy to think when a vocalist and an orchestra pair up.

Before this piece was up he would think of something. Something.

* * *

"Stop the car!" Murphy shouted.

"What?" Greenly asked, he was not sure if he heard correctly.

"Stop the fuckin car!" Murphy screamed, already opening his car door.

"All right! All right!" Greenly said slamming on the brakes. "What are you freaking out for?"

"That fuckin Russian, right there!" Murphy screamed yanking his pistol out in plain sight as he charged towards a huge Russian in the alley between a restaurant and an apartment building. "Hey Vladimir's brother!"

The Russian turned and before he could react, the Irish man leapt into the air landing on the Russian. He began to bash the man's head in with his gun. The Russian fell to the ground and Murphy slammed his foot on the man and aimed his gun. "You are going to do everything I say, and I just might spare your FUCKIN life! Answer every single one of my questions!"

The Russian was extremely scared. Something was different about the Irish man this time. There was something in the Irish man's eyes that scared him. "Okay…" he whimpered.

"Where is Mr. Glass?" Murphy screamed.

"The American?" He Russian asked.

"Yes the fuckin American!"

"He wanted me to hurt you two! That's all he wanted. He said I no kill you two!"

"Where is he?" Murphy said still screaming.

"He took the old Russian building."

"No! He didn't! He wasn't there! Now don't fuckin lie to me again, you fuckin bastard!" Murphy screamed pressing the gun deeper into the Russian's forehead.

"No he did! I no lie! Fuck! He's in the basement!"

"What basement? There wasn't a fuckin basement!"

"Yes! Yes there is! It is hidden! Hidden!" The Russian screamed in complete terror now. "Under the red rug next to the front door!"

Murphy released his choke hold on the Russian. "Hidden," he whispered. "Any other day I'd kill you. I might need you again. In the mean time, you clean up your act and I won't come find you and blow your fuckin brains out."

Murphy stood up, turned, and left the Russian lying on the ground. Greenly shrugged, "wow, you're good."

"No, I'm pissed!"

* * *

"Time for my FAVORITE part!" Mr. Glass cheered. He skipped to the briefcase and pulled out the miniature screwdriver. "This. Oh, this is my friend."

Connor began to breathe heavily. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. He was beginning to think that everything would be better if he were just dead. The pain would be over and he'd be free. The thought made tears well up inside him. He couldn't hold them back. They began to flow down his cheeks, causing a silent sobbing.

"Oh, oh, oh. Don't cry… don't cry little Connor. It'll all be over in a few hours," Mr. Glass said, feigning a compassionate voice.

The word "hours" caused Connor to spasm slightly. Hours felt like years. Mr. Glass clicked the screwdriver on and it began to screech maliciously.

* * *

Murphy and Greenly leapt out of the cruiser at the Russian mob house. It was a strange feeling of déjà vu. They charged into the building. The red rug was just where the Russian said it would be.

Murphy ripped the rug up, revealing a trap door. Greenly grabbed the door handle and opened it. Murphy was careful to make sure that there was no one on the other side. It was all clear. Murphy went in, followed by Greenly, both with guns drawn.

Murphy got to the bottom of the stairs and saw the door. A large black door. He knew for a fact that Connor was on the other side. Greenly nodded, he seemed to know too. Then something truly frightening sounded. A screwdriver began humming. Followed by Connor's blood curdling screams.

Murphy broke into a sprint. He didn't bother with a door handle. It was probably locked anyway. He busted through the rotting door and stopped. The combination of sights was so frightening, he couldn't move.

In the chair in the center of the room sat Connor, blood leaking from every appendage on his body. Drool dripping from his mouth. And from his leg, Mr. Glass ripped the screwdriver out of his thigh. Taking with it bits of skin and torrents of blood and gore. The hole in his thigh erupted in crimson.

The only thing more frightening than this sight was what Murphy and Greenly saw in the corner of the room. Standing calmly, with both pinky fingers missing was…

David Della Rocco.


	8. Tentative Reunion

**Chapter 8**

**Tentative Reunion**

"Oh. Got to go. Have fun you two!" Mr. Glass calmly said as he and Rocco slipped out another door.

Greenly looked at Murphy. Murphy who was just staring as the two men left the room. "What the fuck? Are you going to follow them?" He shouted. "Fuck!" He bounded after the two men.

Murphy managed to stop gawking and started to follow Greenly, but again stopped when he heard Connor's pleading grunt. He knelt next to Connor's chair. His knee instantly became soaked in the puddle of blood under the chair. "Oh shit," Murphy whispered. "I'm gonna help you Conner. You're going to be fine!"

Connor began to cry. His tears were pained, but for once, he was beginning to feel the slightest bit of hope. "Connor! Hang in there! You can do it! Just be strong! Stay with me!" Murphy said grabbing Connor's head and staring into his deep blue eyes.

"Murph…" Connor painfully whispered. "I'm…" he began to violently cough.

Murphy grabbed Connor's hair and held him firmly, "Connor! You're going to be fine!" Murphy glanced away for a second, "I'm sorry too."

Connor exhaled relief. But the relief was short lived. From the door that the pair of men and Greenly had disappeared came a gunshot. Connor and Murphy jumped nervously. "GREENLY!" Murphy screamed.

There was silence for a few seconds, then, "I'm fine! Sorry! I lost them."

Relief swept over the brothers again. "Thank the Lord," Murphy muttered under his breath. "Help me out!"

Greenly rushed to Murphy's side. They began to untie the ropes holding Connor's body to the chair. After they managed to get all the ropes untied, they had to catch Connor, who didn't have the energy to keep himself in the sitting position. He simply fell out of the seat. But, Greenly and Murphy managed to keep him from hitting the ground too hard.

"We gotcha, we gotcha…" Greenly said in a soothing voice. "You're gonna be fine. We're gonna take you to the hospital."

Connor lurched at the word and cried an unrecognizable syllable. "We can't go to hospital," Murphy said plainly.

"What are you talking about? We have to!" Greenly shouted.

"No we can't! They'll call the police!"

"Connor needs a doctor! And hey, why would the need to call the police. They already have a police officer," Greenly replied, grinning. Realization hit Murphy. He was surprised at his stupidity.

"Connor! You're goin to be fine!" Murphy smiled for the first time in a while.

* * *

"South Boston! Finally!" Smecker sped into the city. "Home, sweet home."

His cell phone began to ring. He picked it up, looked at the caller ID and saw, the letters GREENLY printed. "Smecker."

"_Hey Smecker. It's Greenly._"

"How are the boys?" Smecker asked, skipping formalities.

"_Murphy and I managed to find Conna in time_." Smecker gasped in relief. "_Conna's in the hospital. He really doesn't look good. I have to fill out the police work, what should I say_?"

"First of all, you shouldn't say anything. Wait till I get there! Secondly, how long was Connor with Glass?" Smecker asked. He figured that if he knew how much torture Connor had been subjected to, he would know Connor's chances for living.

"_Conna? Uhh, he got kidnapped at what, eight_?" Greenly was apparently checking with Murphy. "_No seven thirty… and we got to him at about… four o'clock_."

"Seven hours. Shit! SHIT! FUCKING SHIT!" Smecker began slamming his hand against the steering wheel.

"_Why? What's wrong?_" Greenly asked, but before he could answer Murphy apparently snatched the phone from him.

"_What? What's wrong?_" Murphy asked frantically. "_Connor is goin ta be fine, right_?"

Smecker sighed, "Well Murphy. You need to understand, I'm not saying one way or another. But the earliest we ever got to somebody was five hours into the torture. That guy died after about six hours in the hospital." Smecker heard sounds on the other side of the line that he could not make out. "But I'm sure it'll be fine!" He shouted trying to be heard. "Connor's strong!" Smecker sighed again and whispered, "Connor's strong."

* * *

The waiting room was quiet and empty. Murphy and Greenly sat alone among a slew of empty chairs. The hospital was at an all time low for admitted emergency room patients. Greenly pretended to fill out paper work while Murphy silently sobbed, thinking of nothing but Connor.

Smecker burst through the doors. He nervously searched the waiting room. No one else but Murphy and Greenly, that was not usual. He quickly headed over to the pair of men. "Give that to me," Smecker said as he yanked the clipboard out from Greenly's hand. He began furiously scribbling answers in all the right places.

Murphy began to shake. He felt colder than he ever had before. It felt as ice was pumping through his body, slowly freezing him from the inside. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Greenly attempting to be compassionate. It wasn't something that came easy to the native Bostonian. But he was trying and that was enough to temporarily calm Murphy's nerves.

"Conna is strong," he whispered. "I'm sure he…"

Before Greenly could finish his sentence a nurse walked in, "Officer Greenly? The doctor's need to see you." Greenly looked up, nervous. This wasn't usual. Smecker also looked up, he placed the paperwork down and he and Greenly stood and walked to the nurse.

"Sorry, just the police officer right now," the nurse said.

"F.B.I. Agent Paul Smecker," Smecker said flashing his badge in the nurse's face.

She smiled nervously, "Okay, Doctor Lamb will see you two now. He has some questions."

She led the two officers of the law through a maze of white, sterile halls. They walked into an emergency operation room. In a bed in the center of the room was an unconscious Connor. A mask on his mouth, IV stuck in his arm, and a heart monitor, metronomically beating his strong heart.

"Officers? Hello, my name is Dr. Lamb," a woman, in her forties, perhaps early fifties outstretched a hand. Smecker then Greenly shook the hand. "What do you two know about this case?"

"Well, I'm an F.B.I. Agent who's been following a mob boss who treats his victims in a similar fashion," Smecker immediately replied. Though his facts were true, he knew that Greenly was going to have to lie somehow. Instead of leaving the lie to him, Smecker decided to speak for Greenly. "And this is Detective Greenly. He found the victim while on patrol. He was showing me the city, you see I'm new. I'm actually out of Manhattan."

Dr. Lamb looked at Greenly, she didn't buy it, "may I see your badges."

"Certainly," Smecker replied as he and Greenly flashed their badges. Dr. Lamb took a good look. She wasn't a fool. "What can you tell us about the victim?"

"He's a male Caucasian. His name is Connor MacManus, that name was provided by his brother who is in the waiting room. Did you talk to him?" Dr. Lamb said reading from Connor's file.

"Yeah, I did," Greenly spoke up.

"Good. What did he tell you about what happened?" Dr. Lamb asked. This felt more like an interrogation than a report.

"Uhhhh…" Greenly hesitated. "Nothing, actually. He didn't really know. He just found him like this."

"Huh. Well you may need to get a little more out of him. I don't think I've ever seen anything like this before in my life."

"What can you tell us, ma'am?" Smecker asked politely.

Dr. Lamb exhaled deeply, "He suffered greatly for hours. He was subjected to multiple lacerations caused by a sharp, serrated instrument such as a saw or a knife. All the lacerations are located on his arms."

"Jesus Christ," Greenly whispered.

"It gets worse. He also received extreme third degree burns on his right and left thigh, left hand, and his right foot. The worst of all is the hole in his right thigh. I have reason to believe that it was caused by some sort of power drill of some sort. He has lost a massive amount of blood. Again, never seen anything like this before. Oh, and we found trace amounts of an unknown drug in his system."

"What are its effects?" Smecker asked.

"I don't know. I've never seen it before. I put a rush on it. I should be getting the results from the tox-scan in less than twenty-four hours."

"You may see more of it. This guy is just getting started in South Boston," Smecker said.

"This seems more like a serial killer, than a mob boss," Dr. Lamb replied.

"That's exactly what we said in Manhattan. But never mind that, what are Connor's…" Smecker didn't like this question. "What are his chances?"

"First name basis, huh," Dr. Lamb said, still suspicious. "Well, most people I would say didn't have long. But something about this guy… I don't know… He's strong. And he is putting up one hell of a fight."

Greenly smiled, but Smecker was able to keep a straight face in order to lower her suspicion.

"Should I be calling different officers?" She asked.

"No. I filled out the paper work. It'll be fine," Smecker said.

"There's something else…" Dr. Lamb said walking over to Connor's bedside. "This guy has multiple bullet wounds. Old bullet wounds."

"We'll look into it," Smecker said. "Just make him better." Smecker didn't really know what to say.

"Agent Smecker…" Dr. Lamb sighed, "It is my goal to have Connor walking out of here in the next few days. If that happens it will be a miracle in medical science. I'm hopeful."

Smecker felt tears coming as he choked out the words, "That's good. That is good."


	9. Dreams of the Witches’ Sabbath

**Chapter 9**

**Dreams of the Witches' Sabbath**

Monday morning: Dr. Lamb walked with a purpose through the halls of the hospital. She walked up to a hospital room and knocked softly.

"Come in." The voice on the other side was familiar. It was Connor MacManus's brother, Murphy.

"Hello Mr. MacManus, how are you doing today?" Dr. Lamb asked not actually looking at the man seated next to the big, white hospital bed.

"Fine," he muttered. "What's happened?"

"Well, has he woken up?"

"No."

"All right, then not much. We ran CAT scan. Your brother's head injury was not severe, though in his condition any injury could be considered severe. We been feeding hemoglobin intravenously, to account for the massive blood loss…" her voice trailed off as she realized that Murphy had stopped listening. He was staring out the window next to Connor's bed.

Murphy did not really notice that she had stopped. He just continued to stare out the window.

"Mr. MacManus?" Dr. Lamb asked.

"Oh, sorry," Murphy said shaking himself out of his trance. "I just don't understand this stuff."

"Okay, let me break this down for you. Your brother is unconscious, due to a massive amount of blood loss. He may wake up today, he may not. I had to feed him hemoglobin through his tube," Dr. Lamb held up the IV that was sticking out of Connor's arm. "And we had to give a CAT scan to check the severity of the head injury. Luckily it's not too bad."

"Thank God," Murphy whispered.

"Now I'm not going to bother you with questions now, but I will need to know exactly what happened. And if you don't tell me, we'll just have to hope that Connor will wake up and tell me himself," Dr. Lamb said.

Murphy's face hardened.

"When was the last time your brother had a tetanus shot?"

"What's a…" Murphy began to ask.

"Never mind. It's just a shot that should be given periodically. I take it he's probably never even had one. All right, I'll get on that," Dr. Lamb said. "I'm going to go now. I'll see you in probably thirty minutes. I'll have the shot then."

"Thank ye," Murphy replied.

Dr. Lamb sighed heavily, "You know, you two remind me of my boys."

Murphy was surprised to hear her say this. This was the most compassionate she had sounded since he'd met her. "Yeah?"

"My sons are soldiers in the army. They're both overseas right now. But…" she began to tear up slightly. She sniffed and wiped her face. "Anyways. Well, you just let me know if anything happens. I'll be back in thirty."

Murphy just stared deeply into her eyes. A weak smile showed on her face as she turned and left the room.

"So she is human," Murphy whispered to himself. He turned back to his brother. Connor had begun to sweat and his eyes seemed to be dancing behind his eyelids. "Bad dream?" He whispered. He placed an arm around Connor and shushed him. "It's all right Connor, you're okay. It's all okay."

Connor began to shake violently. "Connor? Connor! Connor!" Murphy began to scream. Dr. Lamb came bounding into the room.

"What is it?" Dr. Lamb screamed.

"I don't know. He was having a bad dream or something and then he began spasming like crazy!" Murphy screamed back.

"Dream?" Dr. Lamb's puzzled look worried Murphy even more. "Connor shouldn't be dreaming if he's unconscious! He's not unconscious!"

"What are you saying?" Murphy cried.

"NURSE!" Dr. Lamb screamed. A nurse came bounding into the room.

"Yes ma'am?" She asked.

"Get me Connor MacManus's file. M-A-C-M-A-N-U-S! Hurry!" She shouted as she took her stethoscope off of her neck and placed the buds into her ears and began listening for Connor's beating heart.

The nurse came barreling into the room again, this time with a manila folder in her hand. She handed it to Dr. Lamb who ripped it open and carefully, yet speedily read information. "Who didn't tell me the toxology report was in?" She screamed. She began reading things softly on the page. "Nurse!"

The nurse seemed really nervous, yet she was also ready for whatever Dr. Lamb was going to say.

"He's been given a heavy narcotic blend. I need a fresh IV stat! And get me Narcan!"

The nurse sobered up and nodded. She immediately began pulling the existing IV out of Connor and prepared a new one, while Dr. Lamb began checking Connor more. "Connor! Connor, can you hear me? Open your eyes!" She said sternly in Connor's face.

No response.

Murphy was crying in the corner of the room. His worst fears were rushing back to him. He was helpless, trapped in the corner of the room, watching his brother die.

The Nurse ran out of the room for only a minute or so. And appeared back, out of breath holding a syringe. "Narcan!"

Dr. Lamb snatched the syringe. While tapping the needle she said to the nurse, "We have to give the Narcan through the muscle tissue. It'll get to him faster than if we did it intravenously. I need you to hold him steady, he's seizing too hard for me to get a steady aim."

The nurse tried to hold Connor down, but he was simply too strong. "I can't do it!" The nurse screamed.

"Shit, where are the other nurses and attendants?"

"They're gone today. Not much going on in the ER so Dr. Piazzola sent them home."

"Murphy!" Dr. Lamb screamed turning to the cowering figure in the corner. "Murphy! Your brother needs you!"

Murphy shook his head violently causing his face to somber. He stood up and rushed to his brother's side. He and the nurse held Connor down allowing Dr. Lamb to stick Connor with the syringe.

"Good!" She shouted once the syringe was empty. Connor began to calm down slightly. Dr. Lamb continued to check vital signs. "I think…" She was breathing hard. "I actually think we may have gotten to him in time. He might be okay." A huge smile erupted on her face.

Murphy did not smile. He was too afraid. This was the second time he was told that his brother might be all right. He was not going to let his guard down this time.

* * *

Greenly and Smecker were running on empty. They had been investigating the Russian mob house all night. They wanted to find as much evidence on Mr. Glass as they could.

"Hey! How much about this guy have you found out?" Greenly asked Smecker.

"Nothing! We barely know anything. Just that he loved torture and mutilation. Beyond that, he's involved in a huge drug ring and his mob has been climbing the ladder ever since he showed his face in Manhattan."

"And what have we found out about him tonight?" Greenly asked.

"Nothing! I swear, it's like he was never fuckin here!" Smecker screamed slamming his foot to the ground. His foot made a strange sound. "What the fuck?"

Greenly came over and they smashed the wood paneling under Smecker's foot revealing a hidden compartment. In it were a file and two vials of a clear liquid. Smecker handed the file to Greenly, "read it."

Smecker pulled out the vials and stared at them, "We need to get these analyzed."

"Hey Smecker?" Greenly managed to choke out.

"What?"

"Take a look," Greenly replied handing the file to Smecker. Smecker opened it. Two pictures were on top. One of Connor, Murphy, and their father walking on the sidewalk. The other a picture of David Della Rocco.


	10. Mother Sheep Tending to Her Flock

**Chapter 10**

**Mother Sheep Tending to Her Flock**

"Murphy?" Dr. Lamb asked as she lightly tapped on the doorway into Connor's hospital room.

Murphy turned, "yeah?"

"I was wondering if I could talk to you," Dr. Lamb said.

"Sure," Murphy sighed as he got up from his chair and walked towards her. He stopped, he did not want to leave his brother alone. A nurse walked in behind Dr. Lamb.

"Don't worry. Connor will be fine. The nurse will be in here the whole time. She'll wait till you get back," Dr. Lamb reassured. The nurse looked at Dr. Lamb. The doctor just nodded and said, "Just wait for us to get back."

Murphy walked out of the room just behind Dr. Lamb. She led him into an office, which he could only assume was hers. "Close the door," she said. As he closed it she began talking, "All right. So I'm going to ask you a few questions. I want you to answer truthfully. One, do you have any other family here other than you two?"

"No," Murphy stated, staring into Dr. Lamb's eyes.

"Okay, well, your brother has been through a lot. A hell of a lot," Dr. Lamb said placing his file on her desk. She did not seem like the type of person who would curse, so it was obviously an important point she was stressing. "I know you know how this happened."

"I told ye! It was that damn mob guy!" Murphy slammed his fist on her desk.

"You are just like my oldest son," Dr. Lamb sighed, staying calm. "He loses his temper easily too. In fact, I'm sure you'd like him. But never mind that. What was Connor doing with a mob overlord like that?"

"I don't know. The fuckin guy just came into our loft and got him."

"Were you there when this happened?" Dr. Lamb asked.

"NO I WASN'T! I've already been through this with those two cops! Why do you want to know?" Murphy shouted.

"Well for two reasons. One, I know that those cops already knew you. One of my nurses saw Detective Greenly console you. That is not professional. So I can't really trust what they say now can I?" Dr. Lamb said reading parts of the file to herself. "And secondly, there's something that you haven't been telling me."

"What's that?" Murphy spat.

"Is this you?" Dr. Lamb handed him a sketch from the file. It was indeed him. It was the sketch of Murphy that the police had drawn and released to the public after they shot Yakavetta in the court room. Murphy swallowed hard. She got them. "And I'm assuming that that's a yes. So I believe it is also right to assume that this is Connor?" Dr. Lamb asked handing a second sketch portraying Connor.

"What's your point? You could have turned us in already, why didn't you?" Murphy growled.

"Murphy, I am a woman of medicine. I dedicate my life to saving other's lives, not ending them. I figure, my job is solely to help you brother walk out of this hospital on his own accord. If he can do that, my job is done. But I need you to always be truthful with me."

"That's not completely true, is it? There is something else you aren't sayin," Murphy said with suspicion.

"That may be so, but that definitely does not concern you. You and Connor are safe in my hospital," she said. Her happiness after having saved Connor's life had completely disappeared since that day. Now she seemed eternally tired. She did nothing but work on Connor's case. It had been three days and still nothing.

"Murphy, it's Wednesday, I think by Friday we need to have Connor awake. If he's not we'll have to find something else to do," Dr. Lamb sighed.

"Okay," Murphy said, confused.

"Why don't you head back to his bedside," Dr. Lamb said as she took back the two sketches and shredded them in her paper shredder. Murphy stood and left. After he closed the door, Dr. Lamb broke down on her desk. Tears came running out. She was able to stop sobbing after a minute. Then sniffed a couple of times, before wiping her face and gaining back her composure. She stood up and pulled on her white jacket and walked out the door to visit some other patients for a change.

* * *

Murphy was snoring next to his brother's hospital bed when Smecker and Greenly knocked on the doorway to the room. "Hey!" Smecker said with fake cheer. "How you holding up, Murphy?"

Murphy shook himself awake, "Huh?"

"How ya doin?" Greenly repeated.

"Oh. Fine. Uhhhh, what time is it?" Murphy said wiping his eyes.

"It's five o'clock. What have you eaten?" Smecker asked.

"I had a sandwich," Murphy said yawning.

"When?"

"Yesterday," Murphy said laughing. "Don't worry, I'm good."

"Like hell. Here," Smecker said throwing Murphy a container of Pringles. "It's all I got."

"It'll do fine," Murphy said as he finally realized how hungry he really was. He popped off the top and began munching on each individual chip.

"Any news?" Greenly asked pointing towards Connor.

Murphy debated telling them that Dr. Lamb knew their secret, but he decided it best not to. "Not really. We're hoping that he'll be awake by Friday," Murphy said shrugging.

"Fri…day?" The words were long and drawn out. It sounded as if each syllable was in pain.

Murphy looked up, that voice did not belong to Smecker or Greenly. He then snapped his head towards Connor. Connor's eyes were barely open, but open enough. He was awake.

"CONNOR!!" Murphy screamed as he embraced his brother. It did not seem like Murphy would ever let go.

"Aye Murph. You're hurtin me a bit," Connor said gasping for air.

"Oh shit! Thank ye God!" Murphy cheered. He turned to Greenly, "Will you go find Dr. Lamb?"

"Absolutely!" Greenly said as he sprinted out of the room.

After about two minutes of more brother-brother hugging, Dr. Lamb barged into the room, followed by Greenly. "CONNOR!" She shouted, tears pouring from her eyes. She had never in her life, ever shown emotion like this with a patient.

"Dr. Lamb! He's awake!" Murphy shouted.

"I think she knows, Murph," Connor said smiling. "You my doctor?"

Dr. Lamb laughed, "Yes! Yes, I'm you doctor. How are you feeling?" She asked as she pulled her stethoscope up to her ears and pressed it against Connor's chest.

"I'm feeling dandy!" Connor said smiling.

"That's great," Dr. Lamb smiled back. She knew he must be in severe pain, but he definitely was a fighter. Dr. Lamb grabbed a clipboard that she had run in with. "I'll be back in a sec with your file and we'll carry on from there!"

She turned and left the room. But as she left a paper slipped from her clipboard. Murphy noticed and grabbed it, "Dr. Lamb you forgot…" He stopped suddenly in his tracks as he briefly read the paper:

_Dear Mary Lamb; We regret to inform you that your son's helicopter was shot down over the…_

Murphy did not need to read anymore. He had an idea of what the rest said. Dr. Lamb teared up as she yanked the paper from his hands. She began walking down the hall briskly.

"Wait!" Murphy shouted as he ran after her. "I had no idea."

"You're right. Because I didn't tell you," She managed to choke.

"I'm so sorry," Murphy said. He did not know what he could say. "What can I do?"

"You've done enough," Dr. Lamb said smiling as she placed her hand lovingly on Murphy's cheek. "Why do you think I didn't call the cops? Why do you think I've spent so much time on your brother's case?"

Realization hit Murphy like a ton of bricks.

"Because you and you brother remind me so much of my sons. Both have died in the war. It was like for a while, I had my sons back," She was crying now. "I had my boys."

* * *

Connor looked around the room. It was two o'clock in the morning, but he was not tired. It seemed his internal clock had been messed up. Murphy was asleep with the palm of his hand smothering his face. Connor laughed a bit before the seething pain hit him.

He took a breath and as he calmed himself, the pain went away. He looked up to the open door of his hospital room. A figure was standing in the hall. It seemed to be watching him. He sat up slightly ignoring the extreme discomfort that accompanied his movement. The figure shifted slightly before coming into his view. Connor stopped breathing. "Murphy," he whispered. His voice began to be masked by his fear. He cried softly, "Murph. Murph, wake up."

His cries were not enough to wake Murphy. The figure in the doorway smirked, "Shhhhh…"

"Fuckin shit," Connor continued to cry. His voice would not get louder. He tried, but nothing past a whisper would come out. "Why are you doin this Rocco?"


	11. Doppelganger

**Chapter 11**

**Doppelganger**

"Why are you doin this Rocco?" Connor cried softly.

He quietly laughed.

"Why?" Connor asked again.

Rocco did not respond. Instead he raised his hand and waved. He turned and left the room. Leaving Murphy still asleep.

Connor fell back in his bed, "Fuckin shit." He could not stop crying. "Why won't it stop? Why can't it just stop?"

* * *

The next morning, Murphy's face slid out of his palm causing him to suddenly wake. "Oh," he grunted. He cleared his throat as he stood and walked to his brother's bedside. Connor did not look good. His face showed fear. Murphy shook him awake. "Ye all right?"

Connor squinted as his eyes tried to open, "Ye fuck."

"Me? What did I do?" Murphy asked, taken aback.

"He came…" Connor coughed.

"What?"

"Rocco. He came into this FUCKING room," Connor spat.

"Oh shit! How did he get in?" Murphy's face showed great remorse.

"I don't fuckin know," Connor shrugged.

"I'll be right back," Murphy said turning to walk out the door. But before he even got to the doorway, Dr. Lamb, Smecker, and Greenly bounded into the room.

"Oh thank God!" Dr. Lamb said holding her hand to her chest.

"Holy shit!" Greenly said. "I was fuckin scared!"

"Huh?" Murphy asked.

"The nurse that works nights was knocked unconscious last night. She said that before she went down she saw a guy. When she described the guy it sounded a lot like some guy," Dr. Lamb explained.

"It sounded like it was Rocco who hit her," Smecker clarified.

"Yeah, I fuckin know it was Rocco! He came into this room!" Connor shouted.

Dr. Lamb, Smecker, and Greenly turned their attention to Murphy, expecting him to say something. "I don't fuckin know. I was asleep," Murphy admitted.

"We need to transfer you to a different room right now!" Dr. Lamb said.

"This hospital is fuckin tiny! You guys barely are keeping yourselves together. You have very little staff, supplies, or space. It won't take long for Rocco to find Connor in a different room!" Greenly shouted.

"You suggesting he go to a different hospital? To a different doctor? A doctor that might recognize these two and turn them in?" Dr. Lamb was shouting now.

"What do you mean?" Connor asked worried.

"I know," Dr. Lamb said quietly. "I know who you two are."

Smecker and Greenly looked nervously at the two brothers.

"Yeah, she told me she knew," Murphy shrugged. "We shouldn't go to a different hospital."

"Thank you!" Dr. Lamb shouted.

"It's all right ye guys! I'm fine watch!" Connor said as he sat up straight. "It doesn't hurt that much!" He moved his legs to the side of the bed and carefully placed his feet on the floor while still resting his body weight on the bed. "Here goes nothing," he said as he pushed himself up to a standing position. He only stood for a second before crashing back down on the bed.

"Connor! Don't push yourself to hard!" Dr. Lamb shouted.

"It's just my right leg that hurts now. I'm really fine!" Connor said with a smile.

"All right, well I have something for that," Dr. Lamb said as she disappeared through the doorway.

"More drugs?" Connor asked.

Dr. Lamb came back into the room, "Nope, crutches!" She said holding up a pair of tan crutches.

"Oh fuck!" Connor laughed as she handed them to him. "Here we go again," Connor said as he placed the crutches under his armpits and tried again. This time he was able to put his weight on the crutches and his left leg. "There! I'm good!"

"Can he be discharged?" Smecker asked.

"It's up to him. If he feels well enough," Dr. Lamb shrugged. "But don't you dare go fight anybody! I swear if I hear that either of you went after that Rocco or that mob boss, I'm going to be very angry!"

Murphy chuckled, "No worries. We'll take a break."

Dr. Lamb smiled, "Oh, I'm going to miss you two!" She said as she gave a big hug to Murphy. "Connor," she made her way over to him, "be careful! Oh and take these just in case the pain gets worse." She handed him an orange bottle. Then she gave him a hug, making sure that she was being careful not to hurt him.

"I'll never forget what ya did for us. What ya did for me," Connor said smiling.

Dr. Lamb was tearing up again, "Feel free to come back anytime. Don't be strangers now!"

"In our occupation we may just find ourselves in need of ye again," Murphy commented.

Smecker and Greenly left the room, followed by Connor carefully hobbling on his new crutches. Murphy tapped Dr. Lamb's shoulder, "Take this. We don't have insurance. But we have money." Murphy handed a huge wad of bills which equaled about ten-thousand dollars. "It's not much, but it's all I brought for ye. In our line of work we come across a lot of money."

"No thanks," Dr. Lamb said attempting to hand it back to Murphy. But Murphy just turned and left.

"Thank ye much Miss Lamb!" Murphy shouted as he turned down the hall and disappeared.

* * *

Having had some rest, the brothers awoke early on Sunday morning. They had emptied their loft and moved into a hotel temporarily. "Good morning Murph!"

Murphy yawned as he put on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. "I'm going to…" Murphy stopped. He was about to say mass, but he remembered the altercation over Connor's rosary. "Uh, I'm going ta mass. You don't have to come. I'm not goin to force ye."

"Murphy. I've been through hell this past week. But the Lord brought me back even though I already once turned my back on him. I'm not goin ta make that mistake again," Connor said as he stood and grabbed his rosary which was lying on the table next to Murphy's.

"I'm glad!" Murphy said, swiping his own.

Murphy helped Connor out of the hotel. Connor had gotten used to using the crutches, but every now and then Murphy had to help him get down stairs. Connor figured he only had a couple of days left on the crutches. He was already finding that he can put some weight on his right leg.

"Wait," Murphy said suddenly as they began walking down the street. They had decided to stay at the hotel that was closest to their church. "Mr. Glass came to me while at mass."

"Oh shit! Different church?" Connor shrugged. "Just till we get that mother fucker?"

"Sure, there's another one this way," Murphy said as he helped his brother turn around and walk the opposite way.

* * *

"Good. They're scared. This is good. You did good. You did real good," Mr. Glass said patting Rocco on the shoulder. He closed the blinds to the hotel room above Connor and Murphy's. "This is very good." 


	12. Carriage Without a Driver

**Chapter 12**

**Carriage Without a Driver**

"Look Murph! No crutches!" Connor said as he stood next to the couch. His stance was awkward and his face was contorted in pain. He could not hold it any longer. His legs buckled and he fell on the couch. "Well I tried."

"Nah, that was good! Hey soon you'll be your old self!" Murphy said. Encouragement was important.

"I should be…" Connor's sentence was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Yeah?" Murphy asked. His heartbeat spiked.

"Housekeeping ya dumb shit!" Greenly's voice joked on the other side.

Murphy laughed as he stood and opened the hotel room door. In came Smecker and Greenly.

"Any news?" Connor asked.

"So far nothing involving neither Mr. Glass nor Rocco has shown up anywhere. But we're keeping our eyes peeled," Smecker informed.

"Yeah! And you'll be the first ta know!" Greenly added.

"That's good," Connor sighed.

"How have you been holding up, Connor?" Smecker asked.

"He's doin great! He stood up today without crutches!" Murphy interrupted.

Connor chuckled, "Then I collapsed."

"Hang in there. You'll be ready to fight in no time!" Smecker said.

"How about the four o' us hit up a pub?" Connor suggested.

"Aye! Good idea!" Murphy agreed.

"I'm off the clock," said Greenly.

"Why not?" Smecker said grinning.

* * *

"Hey, they are a fun pair those two!" Murphy cheered as he closed the hotel door behind him. "We should drink with them more often!"

"Aye. They were fuckin hilarious!" Connor laughed. "Greenly got pretty damn drunk though. I was surprised at how much of a lightweight he was!"

"Yeah! Even Smecker held his liquor better. That's what surprised me!"

Connor sighed, "I'm gonna hit the sack!"

"As am I. G'night Connor.'

"Sleep well," Connor yawned in response.

* * *

When Monday morning came, no one was ready for it.

_BANG!_ The ear shattering sound came from the door to the hotel room. It jolted the brothers awaked.

"Holy shit! What the fuck was that?" Connor shouted.

"I dunno," Murphy whispered.

The door began to shake and rattle as it kept furiously sounding the deafening knocking noise.

Connor looked at Murphy. Murphy's face had turned red. No. Not Murphy's face, the whole room was tinted red. Murphy's face was staring past Connor. Plastered on his face was pure terror.

"Connor," Murphy whispered pointing past him.

Connor turned slowly to see the window to their room. That was what was causing the red tint. Blood was leaking down it. "Holy fuckin shit!" Connor screamed.

Murphy stood slowly and walked towards the rattling door. All of a sudden everything stopped. The noise, the door's movement. Murphy stood, like a statue in the red room. He looked at his brother then turned and placed his hand on the door handle. He carefully turned it and opened the door, ready to face whatever was on the other side.

He tore the door open. Nothing. No, not nothing, at his feet was a tape recorder. It stood maliciously, begging to be picked up. Murphy leaned carefully down, not taking his eyes off of the empty hallway. He picked it up and closed the door.

When he turned he saw Connor had opened the bloody window. "What the fuck are you doin?" Murphy asked.

"There's something in the blood," Connor grunted as he reached out and grabbed a piece of paper tied to a string, hanging from the window above them. Connor turned to Murphy, "Play it."

Murphy looked at the recorder in his hand. He found the "play" button and pressed down:

"_Hello boys. Mr. Glass here! You might be asking yourselves why I waited so long to strike again. Well, I can answer that. See this last week I have been waiting, watching. I wanted to ensure that I was ready, and I wanted your guard to be down. You made it so easy for me. Hell, I didn't even have to fight to get this one!_" Mr. Glass's voice stopped for a moment. Just long enough for the brothers to hear a man screaming. "_You hear that? That would be your precious Detective Greenly. He was so drunk he practically walked into my hands!_"

"Oh fuck!" Connor shouted.

"_And you may have already found the photo that I hung from my hotel room above yours. Take a look,_" Mr. Glass dared.

Connor unfolded the photo paper which was soaked with blood. Even with the blood he could still see clearly what the picture was. He screamed as he dropped the photo. Murphy picked it up, "Shit! FUCKING SHIT!"

"_I know this isn't going to be easy for you two. But you have a couple of choices. These victims are being held in two very different places. You're going to have to figure out where they are first. Then you must decide. Who to save? Your beloved doctor friend. Or your insider in the police department. Unless of course the two of you decide to split up. Then you might have the chance to save them both. But rumor has it that you two only work as a team,_" Mr. Glass cackled and the tape cut off.

Connor and Murphy's eyes met. Connor's eyes were filled with anger and hate while Murphy's only held tears.

* * *

"Greenly. Poor Greenly," Mr. Glass smirked. "Looks like your little friends are running out of time."

Greenly tried to scream something through the roped tied around his mouth.

"Shhhhh… You know, because you're about to die, maybe I should share my little secret with you," Mr. Glass said pointing to Rocco who was standing in the room too. "You see, my henchmen will do anything for me. They are completely in my control. If I say, hmmm… why don't you grow you hair out, grow a beard, and cut off both of your pinky fingers, they do it!" He said holding Rocco's hand and pointing to the missing pinky.

"I emulate. I create using simple body modification and special effects. Like in the movies!" Mr. Glass laughed. Rocco said nothing. He turned to Rocco, "Drive to Dr. Lamb. Make sure you guard her. And if the brothers show up, you know what to do!" Rocco nodded and left the room.

"Ahhh… alone time. Now I get to do this all over again! This time, no drugs. You're not a fighter. Not like little Connor!" Mr. Glass cheered as he pulled out his briefcase.


	13. Mad Rush

**Chapter 13**

**Mad Rush**

Smecker came bursting back into the room. He was panting hard. "I checked with the manager. He let me into the room upstairs. It was checked out to a David and Amber Maslanka. And I think it's their blood that was poured from the room upstairs down onto your window. The angle makes it really easy to do."

"But how are we goin to find em?" Connor asked.

"I don't think you should come Connor," Smecker suggested.

"What? What the fuck are ye talkin about?" Connor screamed. "Tell 'im Murph! Tell him I should go!"

Murphy stayed silent. He only looked at his shoes.

"Murph?" Connor whispered.

"Connor, I just… I just don't think you're well enough," Murphy said.

"I bloody fuckin am well enough! Look!" He shouted as he lifted himself up on his crutches. He placed the crutches down and attempted to walk. The pain was too much. He fell onto the hard ground and shouted in pain.

"Oh God!" Murphy said jumping to Connor's aid.

"Get the fuck off of me! Don't help me you ass!" Connor screamed in anger.

Murphy was slightly taken aback. He had not seen this side of Connor since before Mr. Glass took him.

"How about this, Connor, you go with Murphy and find out where Mr. Glass is. Then let Murphy scope out the place before you go in?" Smecker said.

"Fuck no!" Connor shouted.

"Actually Smecker, I should go after Dr. Lamb. I was thinking maybe you would go with Connor to find Greenly," Murphy said. "This is just as much Connor's fight as it is mine and yours."

"All right. That's agreeable," Smecker said. "Now how do we find them?"

* * *

"So detective, what's your greatest fear?" Mr. Glass said as he scanned his open briefcase. "Huh? Well let's see if we can't just dig it out."

Greenly was sitting in the same blood-soaked chair that Connor had been bound to. His feet were tied tightly to the legs of the chair while his hands were tied to the arms. This forced his hand be in an open position.

Mr. Glass pulled out a wrench. He grinned as he slowly walked towards his victim. He grabbed Greenly's right index finger and held it steady. He placed the wrench firmly on the nail and pressed down hard.

Greenly was afraid that Glass was trying to break his finger, but it turned out to be much worse. Because as Mr. Glass applied the pressure, he began to slide the wrench off of Greenly's finger. This caused the fingernail to slowly be torn from the cuticle. As his nail was viscously ripped from his finger he could do nothing but scream painfully through the rope still in his mouth.

The wrench slid all the way off the finger, taking with it his fingernail. Leaving the nail bed bloody and exposed. Mr. Glass did not stop there. He then to a hammer and nail and carefully aimed the nail over the bloody nail bed and whacked it hard, driving the nail into Greenly's finger effectively nailing Greenly's finger to the chair.

Greenly screamed harder. The pain was unbearable. It was the first time he ever wished himself dead. As if Mr. Glass knew that's what he was thinking, he calmly said, "Oh, I've only just begun. You have nine more fingers."

* * *

"Let me see the photo!" Murphy said snatching the photograph from Connor. "Connor! I know where she is!" Murphy shouted handing the photo back to him.

Connor took a closer look and recognized it immediately, "That's where you first saw Rocco! That's where Da's buried! But they wouldn't put her in the open like that would they?"

"Do ya remember the hike it was just to get there? And plus, no one goes there anyway!" Murphy smiled. "No to figure out where Greenly is."

"We'll take of that," Smecker said. "You go save Dr. Lamb."

Murphy nodded.

"But Murph!" Connor said grabbing his brother's arm. "Be fuckin smart. Be careful."

"Aye brother. This is no different than any other time," Murphy replied.

"No it is different. I'm not goin to be there to back you up. If it gets too hot, you get the fuck out!" Connor said.

Murphy nodded again and headed out the door.

"All right. So where do we start?" Smecker asked.

"The Russian mob house?" Connor shrugged.

* * *

"Little lady!" Rocco's imposter teased. "Don't fuss!"

Dr. Lamb tried to free herself from the ropes binding her to the tree.

"If you fuss, I do this…" Rocco said grabbing her left pinky and snapping it using just his right hand.

Dr. Lamb screamed.

"You should be happy you still have your pinky," Rocco said holding his hands up in her face. Showing her his missing fingers.

Dr. Lamb managed to calm down, "You are a sad man."

"Am I now?" He asked, cocking one eyebrow questioningly.

"You are like a little lap dog. Forced to do everything your boss says. I take it he cut off you pinkies. Well has he ever mutilated himself?" Dr. Lamb asked.

"Ha! You are so funny! People always try this logic. I am loyal. I do what I'm told. I don't question. And nothing you say is going to cause any epiphany. And I am surely not going to free you!" Rocco laughed. "In one hour I get to kill you! I'm looking forward to it!"

* * *

Mr. Glass reached his hand towards Greenly's face and grabbed the rope. He pulled it out of his mouth allowing him to speak. "Anything you want to say? Any proverbial last words?"

Greenly was panting he was in so much pain. He felt like his body had been placed in a blender. "How… about," he gasped. "You are the biggest FUCKING piece of shit to have ever been allowed to walk on this Earth."

"Oh that's just your hand talking," Mr. Glass said pointing at Greenly's right hand. Four of his fingers had been nailed to the chair in a similar fashion to the index finger. The nails protruded in different directions causing a sickening image of pain.

"Connor and Murphy are going to hunt your sorry ass down and kill you!" Greenly screamed, and then spit in Mr. Glass's face.

Mr. Glass froze for a second before reaching his hand to his own face and wiping the spit from it. "That is going to cost you," Mr. Glass said grabbing his hammer. Greenly waited nervously to see a nail be pulled out, but instead Mr. Glass simply slammed the head of the hammer onto the back of his right hand.

"FUCK!" Greenly screamed.

"Oh too loud," Mr. Glass said as he put the rope back into Greenly's mouth. "Let's keep going, shall we?"

* * *

"Fuck! Nothing!" Connor shouted standing with the aid of his crutches in the middle of the first floor of the Russian mob building.

"What else can you think of?" Smecker asked. "Wait." Smecker pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. "Hey, I need you to check on something. Have you received any noise complaints? Possibly yelling?" Smecker waited and listened to the answer. "Great, and what is that address? Okay. Wait what did you say? Holy shit! All right," Smecker said snapping the phone closed.

"Wha?" Connor asked.

"No one has checked it out yet, but someone complained about screams coming from above her loft," Smecker said.

"Yeah, and," Connor said. It was not uncommon for noise complaints to be about screaming.

"And the loft above this woman's belongs to Detective Greenly."


	14. The Summit of Pain

**Chapter 14**

**The Summit of Pain**

Murphy felt like a spy. He crept through the woods quietly. He had remembered clearly how they were laid out when they came to bury their dad so he wasn't having any trouble avoiding the eyes of the guards standing post all around the forest.

He peered from behind a tree that helped to form the clearing. On the other side he could see Dr. Lamb tied to a tree and Rocco standing next to her. Murphy lifted his right hand which held the suppressed Berretta 92f pistol. He took one deep breath, exhaled, then leapt from behind the tree. He shot Rocco square in the chest. It would have been better to hit the head, but with him being so close to the doctor he wanted to be careful with his shot.

The pistol didn't make enough noise to catch the attention of any of the guards. Rocco fell to the ground, but Murphy knew that he was not dead. The shot was not even enough to really hurt someone.

Rocco in an instant jumped from the ground and hid behind the tree Dr. Lamb was tied to. In his hand was a twelve inch, serrated hunting knife. The metal of the knife pressed to the doctor's neck, "Now what?" Rocco teased.

"Ye know, I should have noticed your eyes," Murphy said calmly.

"My eyes?" Rocco asked.

"Yeah. They're brown," Murphy stated.

"And?"

"Rocco's were gray," Murphy said as he shot a bullet from his pistol. The bullet skimmed past Dr. Lamb and lodged itself into the imposter's right eye. He could not have done a thing to stop it. His body fell limp to the ground.

"That's right you… you… fucker," Dr. Lamb spat.

"Ye shouldn't curse, love," Murphy said smiling. "It just doesn't sound right."

* * *

"Let's vary the pain slightly," Mr. Glass suggested. He moved his attention to Greenly's left hand. He grabbed a nail and his hammer again. This time he aimed the nail just under Greenly's fingernail. He wound up and smashed the nail in, causing Greenly's fingernail to pop up and blood begin to flow and pool around the finger.

Greenly's screams were muffled by the rope.

"That went well," Mr. Glass smiled. "Again?"

He repeated the process again on Greenly's middle finger of his left hand. It seemed each time the pain was worse than before. Greenly would feel the pain. Then he would anticipate the pain coming. But he could never prepare himself for the pain that came.

Mr. Glass finished two more nails leaving Greenly's fingertips bloody and shaking. "I am so fucking tired of these fucking Irish brothers. They are driving so fucking insane. My insides feel like this," Mr. Glass said as he began to hit Greenly's left hand with the hammer, repeatedly.

Greenly was crying. The tears streaming down his face, his muffled screams becoming more like coughs and gurgles. He could not wait for death. It must certainly be soon.

Mr. Glass put down the hammer and placed his hand to his face in an effort to calm himself. "I mustn't get that way. Can't lose focus," his mantra repeated over and over helped him to calm down. "Okay, more pain."

"This is it?" Connor said hobbling along beside Smecker as they walked up to a large apartment building.

"Yep. This is the address the station gave me," Smecker said as the opened the front door and stepped into the elevator.

"What? No guards?" Connor said as the doors opened and the empty hallway was revealed.

"Guess not," Smecker shrugged as they walked to door number 814. They could hear Greenly's muffled screams from outside the door. "We need to be smart about this. How are we going to get in?"

"I don't think there is any stealthy way to do this. This is going to have to be blunt and quick," Connor said as he pulled his gun out from the back of his jeans.

"All right, you shoot the lock and I'll barge in and we'll play it by ear," Smecker said nervously. This was not a good plan. Too dirty. But they didn't have much of a choice.

Connor aimed his pistol at the lock of the door and shot it. Smecker smashed against the door and it burst open. They could hear Greenly's screams for help coming from the kitchen which was just to their left. Smecker carefully slid along the walls, constantly looking out.

Behind him came Connor, limping slowly on his crutches. Smecker stuck his head into the kitchen. In the middle of the room was Greenly tied to the chair. His hands looked terrible. Blood freely dripping from all of his fingers. Tear streaks were clearly visible on his face and a rope was being used as a makeshift gag.

The rest of the room was empty, but Greenly had a nervous, fearful look on his face. Smecker knew something was not right, but he did not know how to deal with it. Greenly's eyes widened with fear and he began to shake violently. Smecker noticed that his eyes were not looking at him, but behind him.

Smecker looked behind him and saw Connor leaning on his crutches and behind him, Mr. Glass with a hammer. "CONNOR!" Smecker shouted.

He warned him just in time. Connor ducked, letting go of his crutches and falling out of harm's way. Mr. Glass's hammer swung and completely missed Connor.

Mr. Glass was quick though, he reacted by hurling the hammer towards Smecker. Smecker, unlike Connor, was not quick. The hammer smashed into his head, knocking him unconscious.

"Connor! We meet again!" Mr. Glass grinned.

* * *

"Let's get out of here," Dr. Lamb whispered.

"Not so fast," Murphy said. "This place is heavily guarded. I managed to sneak past them to get to ya, but I don't think you and I could sneak past them to get back."

Murphy crept up to the first guard he could see. He placed the gun to the back of the guards head and pulled the trigger. The body collapsed as quietly as Murphy could have hoped.

"That was easy," she whispered.

"Yeah," Murphy replied, smiling.

He came up behind another guard and took aim similarly, but this time another guard came flanked from the side, aiming his gun at Murphy's head. Dr. Lamb used quick think and grabbed the hand holding the gun while Murphy shot the first guard. The second guard was too much for the doctor to handle, but she was able to keep him busy long enough for Murphy to shoot him.

"Nicely done," Murphy smiled.

"Thanks," she replied as she yanked the guard's gun from his hands. She saw Murphy giving her a nervously look. "Just in case," she assured him.

"There's only a few more," Murphy said pointing a head of them. "The edge of the woods is almost in sight."

They crept further along in the woods before getting to the next guard. The guard was already collapse on the ground. "What the…" Murphy began, before he realized it was an ambush. Four guards came out from behind trees surrounding them. The guard on the ground opened his eyes and aimed his gun at Murphy.

"Drop your weapons," the guard said. "Drop them, now!"


	15. Extraordinary Situation

**Chapter 15**

**Extraordinary Situation**

Connor crawled as best he could on his back away from Mr. Glass. It was no use. Mr. Glass aimed Connor's pistol in Connor's face. "Why don't we just skip the 'any last words' deal and just get to killing you?"

He cocked the gun, while Connor still furiously attempted to crawl away. Connor felt the floor change under his hands. Linoleum, the kitchen. Then his hand touched the pool of blood. Instantly Connor felt a surge of energy. Knowing that it was not just his life that was on the line, but also Greenly's.

"Drop 'em! Now!" The guard screamed.

"Fine," Murphy sighed, letting his pistol fall to the ground. Dr. Lamb followed suit with her gun.

"Don't try anything stupid," the guard said.

_This is incredibly cliché_, Dr. Lamb thought.

The guards pulled out handcuffs and carefully approached Murphy and Dr. Lamb. The guards clipped the cuffs on tight. Dr. Lamb could feel the cool steel of the cuffs slicing into her skin.

The guards forced them to walk back towards the clearing, further into the woods. As they walked Murphy prayed for someone of something to help him. But something on the inside told him that it was up to him.

* * *

Connor, using his good leg, pushed himself towards Mr. Glass. Glass tried to shoot, but by the time he pulled the trigger, Connor had grabbed his leg and pushed him down. Mr. Glass fell to the ground with a grunt causing the pistol to slide away from both of them.

Connor began to punch Mr. Glass's face as hard as he could. Mr. Glass, though very wiry, had a lot of strength in him. He grabbed both of Connor's wrists and yanked on them, causing Connor to do a roll and hit the ground hard on his leg.

He screamed while the pain coursed through him causing his eyes to water. "Fuck!" Connor shouted. Connor's mind was quickly taken off of his pain when he saw Mr. Glass slowly stand up. He cracked his back and grimaced.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Mr. Glass asked walking towards the pistol.

Connor looked around the room for anything he could use. His hands rested on the crutches which were next to him. He stood carefully on them and hobbled as fast as he could.

Mr. Glass got to the gun first, but Connor was the quicker thinker. He smacked Glass's leg with his left crutch causing Glass to buckle and fall to the ground.

Connor lost control of his body. While resting on his right crutch, he smashed his left crutch in Mr. Glass's face. He could not stop there. He kept stabbing the man's face with the crutch. The face gradually began to ooze blood from the nose and mouth. Mr. Glass did not scream, just grunt.

Connor kept jamming the crutch into his face, harder and harder. "DIE YOU MOTHER FUCKER!" He cried as he continued to jab. The crutch landed on Mr. Glass's eye this time, causing it to lodge further back in Glass's head. By this time Connor could have safely assumed that Glass was dead, but he could not stop himself. He continued to hit Glass until Smecker woke up.

Smecker took a look at the bloody thing on the floor which used to be Mr. Glass's head. He felt like he was going to hurl. He walked carefully up to Connor and put a hand softly on his shoulder, "It's over."

* * *

Murphy's plan came to him. He slowed his walking slightly, just so that he could feel the guard behind him. Perfect! He could feel the metal that was the guard's gun pressing against his back.

Murphy kicked the guard in the shin, causing him to topple. Murphy knew that he would have to be fast and take out the guard behind Dr. Lamb before he shot her. So he rammed his head into the guard's side.

Dr. Lamb saw what Murphy was doing and instantly copied him. There was a guard close to her, but far from Murphy. She launched her body at him causing them to both fall to the ground.

But there was still one guard left and his gun was pointed right at Murphy. The guard smirked, "Nice try."

* * *

"Greenly," Connor said softly. "We need to get you out of here."

Greenly, with the gag still in his mouth, looked down at his hands.

"Holy shit!" Connor screamed. He had not noticed the nails sticking out of Greenly's fingers. "Bite down hard on the rope."

Greenly nodded, he knew what was coming. Smecker handed Connor the hammer. If they did not do this now, Greenly may not survive. Connor hooked the fork end of the hammer around the first nail. He yanked, the nail tore out of Greenly's fingernail bed with a sickening _squish_.

Greenly screamed violently. Connor winced, it hurt him to see the detective in this state. Connor knew it had to be done. He hooked the hammer on the next nail and yanked. Greenly's screams were worse than before.

Connor hooked the hammer again, only two more. Greenly shook his head, behind his gag the muffled words came out loud and clear, "No! No! No!"

Connor closed his eyes as he pulled again. The nail slid out and Greenly's screams followed.

Connor was beginning to tear up, "One more. One more, man. You can do it."

"No, no, no!" Greenly kept screaming through the gag. Connor ripped the last one out and Greenly's screams were the worst yet. He was crying now, like an infant.

* * *

The guard whose gun was pointed at Murphy grinned. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, his face exploded in an eruption of crimson gore.

"Oh my," Dr. Lamb said.

Murphy, whose face was covered in pieces of the guard, slowly turned his head to look at the doctor.

She was holding one of the guard's guns with her hands cuffed behind her back. She had pulled the trigger.

"How the hell did ye do that?" Murphy asked.

"I don't really know," Dr. Lamb replied.

"Were you aiming?" Murphy asked.

"Not really, I was just hoping," Dr. Lamb answered.

"HOPING?" Murphy said. "Jesus Christ!"

* * *

Connor carefully untied the ropes around Greenly's wrist. He pulled the gag out of his mouth. Greenly stopped screaming, he could only cry. His tears composed of so many things, pain, fear, hope, and even happiness.

Smecker knelt and untied the ropes around Greenly's ankle.

"Connor," Greenly whispered. "thanks…"

Connor was tearing up again. "You're goin ta be fine," he managed to choke.


	16. A New Day Dawns

**Chapter 16**

**A New Day Dawns**

"Found them," Dr. Lamb said holding keys tied to one of the fallen guards.

"Good, unlock my cuffs," Murphy said.

Once their cuffs were off they hastily made their way out of the woods. Murphy inhaled a huge breath. "Thank God ye made it through," Murphy said.

"Yeah, but not without a broken finger. I should probably put this in a brace. Let's head to the hospital," Dr. Lamb suggested.

"Sure, but only fer a minute. We got ta meet Connor at the hotel room," Murphy replied.

"Oh I do hope he is safe," Dr. Lamb said.

Murphy grabbed Dr. Lamb's arm hard and gave her a stern look, "He's fuckin fine." His face softened a bit, he let go, "Sorry, I'm sorry," Murphy said.

"No worries. I'm sorry too," Dr. Lamb said. Murphy's episode did not surprise her all that much.

"Let's get out of here."

* * *

Dr. Lamb and Murphy ran into the hospital, "I'm just going to grab a finger brace and some tape and we'll head back."

"Dr. Lamb!" A nurse shouted behind the reception desk. "There is someone on the phone for you. He says it's important!"

"I don't have time for that right now, thank you. Tell him to call back later," Dr. Lamb replied.

"He says he's an F.B.I. Agent?" The nurse said. "He won't take no for an answer."

"Give it to me," the doctor said grabbing the phone from the nurse's hands. "Hello."

"_Dr. Lamb, it's Smecker_."

"Oh, right. What's wrong?"

"_We need to take Detective Greenly to the hospital badly. I can get him there,_" Smecker said.

"Sure. Make sure Connor comes too. Tell him Murphy's here!" Dr. Lamb said hanging up the phone. "Change of plans, they're coming here."

* * *

Smecker's car shot down the roads of South Boston, which were empty at this time of night. He had a pair of lights flashing on the front and rear of his car to show that he was an officer.

He looked in his rearview mirror at the backseat. Connor sat up with Greenly lying on his back. His face was pale and he was sweating profusely. "Hang in there, Greenly! We're almost there!"

* * *

When Smecker pulled up to the hospital, there was a gurney and the doctor already waiting. Dr. Lamb and Smecker carefully moved Greenly onto the gurney and they rushed him down the halls of the hospital.

They pulled the rolling bed into a room. In the room, Murphy was waiting.

"Is he conscious?" Dr. Lamb said, almost yelling.

"Yeah," Smecker replied. "I don't think he used the drug this time."

"Thank God!" The doctor replied. Two nurses came into the room, prepared to help. "Damn this hospital is understaffed! All right we need to address his hands first, he seems to be losing a lot of blood from them." Dr. Lamb eyes were furiously scanning the body. "Jesus! I haven't seen anything like this since…"

Before she could finish, Connor hobbled into the room covered in blood. Murphy gasped. "Are ye all right?"

"Fine! Not my blood! How's he doin doctor?" Connor asked.

"I'll tell you in a bit! Why don't you guys wait out there? I'll get you when I'm done," Dr. Lamb replied.

* * *

The hall was quiet. Murphy and Connor's reunion was not much of a celebration. They waited patiently for the doctor's news.

"He was a good man," Murphy said, breaking the long silence.

"He's not fuckin dead yet! Don't talk about him like he is!" Connor shouted. Connor was leaning on his crutches, one of which was covered in blood and gore.

The door opened and Dr. Lamb came out followed by Smecker. Her scrubs covered in red. "It wasn't just his hands. He had a lot of internal bleeding. Possibly from being physically beaten. Also, his hands were completely shattered. But we managed to stabilize him. He's asleep now, but he may be well enough to see you two tomorrow."

"So he's going ta be okay?" Connor asked.

"I believe so," Dr. Lamb replied. Murphy wrapped his arms around the bloody Dr. Lamb. His bear hug made her smile. Connor hobbled over and joined the hugging. "You boys!" She said with a smile.

* * *

One week later…

"Ye limp is gone!" Murphy said with surprise as they walked out of the burger joint they had just dined in.

"Aye! It's great!" Connor replied.

"Great is right!" Murphy said as they walked down the sidewalk towards their new loft. They had purchased a surprisingly nice loft near the church. As they got to the door they noticed a police cruiser parked in front of the building.

Connor walked up to it and looked in. Greenly was at the wheel, his hands completely bandaged. "Hello," Connor said.

Greenly jumped, "What? Oh, hey. I uhh just wanted to thank you two for…"

Connor cut him off with the wave of his hand. "You will never have ta thank us. If anything we should thank you. You make our job easier, we only complicate yer's."

"But I'm happy to have a complicated job if it means being able to have you two helping us all out," Greenly said smiling.

"Aye? Well, I'm glad ya think that way," Connor replied.

"Oh! And the doctor asked me to give you this," Greenly said pulling out a photograph. He handed it to Connor who looked at it with Murphy peering over his shoulder.

"That's them," Murphy said.

"Who?" Connor asked.

"Her sons," he said. The photo showed two twenty-something year old men standing in BDU's in front of a helicopter.

"Thanks Greenly!" Murphy said.

"She said to tell you that you are always welcome at that hospital. And that the utmost doctor-patient confidentiality will be kept," Greenly said.

"We'll keep that in mind. You know, next time," Murphy said.

"Oh! And last thing," Greenly said excited.

"Yeah?" Murphy asked.

"Smecker got transferred back to South Boston, permanently. Apparently his track record in this town is superb," Greenly said shrugging. "And he denied knowing these MacManus brothers."

Murphy put his arm around his brother's shoulder. "Aye? He's a good man. One of the few."

"Aye! I guess we got ourselves a little followin now don't we?" Connor smiled.

"I guess we do," Murphy shrugged.

The police cruiser pulled out from the parking space on the side of the road. The two brothers turned and walked through the revolving doors.


	17. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

Well? That's it.

This was a fun story for me to write, and quite truthfully it was a stretch. I'm not one who likes to write Fan Fiction, but I decided to anyway.

Also, though I am Christian, I'm not too religious, and I'm not Catholic. So writing about two characters who are so strongly religious was a bit of a risk.

* * *

Thank you:

To my readers on FanFiction, especially Bellhavenontap and GoddessLaughs. I also want to thank all my friends at home who read the printed version.

I want to especially thank the cast and crew of the film _The Boondock Saints_. Troy Duffy (writer/director) went through a lot to see his movie made only to have it be stamped with the NC-17 rating from the MPAA. I'm happy to see his movie has become such a cult classic and I'm also happy to see it finally released on DVD in the United States!

* * *

A little bit about me:

I'm actually a classically trained musician. I'm majoring in Music Composition and Music Theory. Writing fiction has been a hobby of mine since first grade. I guess something about writing really speaks to me because I'm planning on writing music for the rest of my life.

Well, I guess that's about it!

Thanks for reading!

Anth


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